Authors: Sara Humphreys
Her eyes narrowed. It seemed that she had every intention of trying to lure William into her bed and make him her next target. As she studied the woman who sat across from her, she came to the conclusion that she was tired of wading through Sylvia’s bullshit, and it was time to face it all head-on.
No more running.
Life had gotten complicated enough in the past couple of days, and she had zero desire to contend with this snake in the grass on top of everything else. Since she didn’t have her camera on her, she’d just have to come out and ask.
“So, what’s the deal? Or more specifically, what’s
your
deal?” Layla asked the question in a calm, even tone and kept her expression neutral. “Why did you ask us to come here tonight, and why on earth are you being so nice to me? You and I haven’t laid eyes on each other in years.” A slow smile curved her lips as she watched the smug look on Sylvia’s face fall away. “And if memory serves, that was a less than cordial exchange.”
Anger flickered across her face, but she quickly squelched it, and once again wore a mask of calm detachment. “Well, forgive me for trying to put the past behind us.” She smoothed out the short skirt of her dress and sipped her drink. “Is that a crime?” she asked with feigned innocence.
Layla studied her with suspicious eyes. “Not for most people.”
Sylvia shrugged one slim shoulder and swirled the green drink stick in her glass. “So how is it out at the farm?” she asked, changing the subject. “It’s been a long time since you’ve been back and all. Is everything just like it used to be?”
“It’s as beautiful as it ever was, but—” She stopped midsentence and snapped her mouth shut. Telling Frank Clark’s daughter her concerns would be plain old dumb. “But, it’s my home, so of course,
I
think it’s beautiful.”
“Yes, well, I know my daddy loves that land,” she said with a bit more edge in her voice. “He’s been after Rosie to sell it to him for years, but she hasn’t caved in to him yet.” She sipped her drink, but continued to study her from over the rim of the glass. “But she will. Everyone always gives in to Daddy… eventually.”
Anger flared hard and fast, and Layla struggled to keep her eyes from shifting. “Your
daddy
isn’t getting our farm. Not now. Not ever,” she bit out. “That land has been in Rosie’s family for over two hundred years,” she said in a much louder voice, “and there’s no way she’d sell it. Especially not to Frank Clark!”
“Really?” A sick smile of satisfaction curled across Sylvia’s face as she watched Layla get upset. “Well now, if you studied your local history, then you’d know that my family owned it before Rosie’s did.”
“What are you talking about?” Dread crept up her spine, and all the hairs on her neck stood on end. Raife had tuned in on their conversation and touched his mind to hers.
She’s just trying to get your goat. It’s all bullshit.
“What? Rosie never told you how her great-great-something or other swindled my great-great-great somebody out of the land in some stupid bet? It was quite the scandal back in the day and… well…” She sighed. “My granddaddy made my daddy promise to get it back. In case you hadn’t noticed, my daddy has bought up every other farm surrounding that one.” Her smile grew bigger, and she reminded Layla of a shark. “Yours is the only one left.”
“And it’s going to stay that way,” Layla shot back.
“We’ll see.” As she sipped her drink, her gaze was captured by something across the room. Her eyes grew round as saucers, and her energy signature quickened with the unmistakable pulse of lust. Layla swore silently. She knew what it was that had captured Sylvia’s attention so completely and didn’t even have to turn around because she sensed him there before Sylvia had seen him.
“William isn’t going to dance with you, and he’s not going to fuck you either.” Layla practically growled, and for a split second, didn’t think that was even her voice. It had been loud enough so that the people behind her even heard it.
“I beg your pardon,” Sylvia sputtered while laying a hand dramatically over her cleavage. “What on earth are you talking about, and how dare you speak to me that way?”
Before she could tell Sylvia exactly where she could go and what she could do when she got there, William was standing between them, larger than life. He was staring down at Sylvia with an expression Layla couldn’t quite read—and she started to feel dizzy.
One glance at Sylvia, and Layla knew there was no doubt about what was on his mind. What else could he be thinking of but sex? The woman practically screamed it. Somehow, in the five seconds Layla looked away, Sylvia’s breasts bulged out of her top even more, and the skirt had hiked up to an almost illegal point. How on earth could she compete with that?
“Well, hello there, handsome,” she said as she leaned closer to him, accentuating her breasts. “How about a dance?”
William didn’t flinch but kept his steady gaze fixed on Sylvia, and quite frankly, Layla couldn’t blame him. The woman was sexy, had a rockin’ body, and practically had a sign on her forehead that screamed “do me.” The silence seemed to stretch forever as Sylvia eye-fucked Layla’s supposed mate. Layla beat back the ridiculous urge to scratch her eyes out and rip that pretty blond hair right out of her empty head.
Sweat broke out on her back and the whole bar seemed smaller, louder, and upside down, all of which made her dizzy and disoriented. Did they crank the heat up in this place? An odd prickling sensation flickered over her arms and up the back of her neck. A low growl rumbled in her throat, and her eyes tingled as they came dangerously close to shifting. More new stuff? Great. Now she was growling?
Oh, no!
Panic crept in as she realized what was happening—she was starting to shift.
Sweet Jesus. The last thing she needed was to shift into her cheetah form for the first time in the middle of the bar. Layla squeezed her eyes shut and struggled for control over her haywire body. She could feel her body temperature rising as the air thickened, and an odd buzzing filled her head. Then, when she thought she was about to lose it completely, William’s calm voice slipped into her mind with irritating ease.
Take
some
deep
breaths, and keep your mind focused on your breathing. That will stop the shift.
That took some balls. The man was hitting on another woman right in front of her, and now he’s telling her what to do? Layla didn’t respond—or couldn’t—at that moment she wasn’t sure which, but she begrudgingly took his direction.
Much to her relief, it worked.
Her skin cooled in slow ripples, and the tingling sensation in her eyes ebbed to a dull throb. She took a couple more deep breaths and happily noted that the nauseating spinning sensation had stopped too. She wanted to open her eyes, but the sight of William twirling Sylvia around the dance floor may well push her past the point of control. As she continued to filter out the swirl of sensations, William’s voice cut through the bar noise and floated over the music, causing her heart to skip a beat.
“I’d love to dance,” he murmured quietly. “I came over here to ask the most beautiful woman in the bar if she would do me the pleasure.”
Layla’s heart sank, and when she opened her eyes, Sylvia was staring back at her with a victorious smile. Then, just as she was about to tell them that they could have each other, William’s strong, warm hand curled over hers. Her breath clogged in her throat, and those dark seductive eyes locked on hers as he brushed his thumb over the top of her fingers.
“May I have this dance?” His eyes twinkled as he brought her quivering hand to his warm, sinful lips. Memories of how he tasted flooded her, and she could swear that snowflakes were melting on her tongue.
Layla’s mouth opened and closed a few times before she finally said, “Yes, of course… I’d love to.”
After she managed to spit out the words, she hopped off the bar stool and brushed past a very pissed-off Sylvia. Normally, she’d have taken the time to make a comment, or at least throw her a look of victory, but she didn’t. As William led her onto the dance floor, she didn’t even give Sylvia a second thought. All she could think of, see, or feel was the man who held her hand.
As he pulled her effortlessly onto the crowded dance floor, she thought he’d release her hand, and they’d dance the way everyone else was—jumping around, clapping, and throwing in the occasional gyration. However, instead of releasing her, he pulled her up against his strong body, placed her hand on his shoulder, slipped one arm behind her back, and took her other hand in his, poised and ready to lead.
Layla just stared at him for a second, not sure of what to say. The band had just started a rousing rendition of “Shook Me All Night Long,” and he was holding her as if they were going to waltz.
She didn’t think anyone in the history of the planet had ever waltzed at the Rustic.
His eyes crinkled at the corners and smiled down at her, clearly amused by her confusion. “What’s the matter?” he asked as his fingers dug into her back, and she instinctively clutched his muscular shoulder in response.
Her breasts pressed into his chest with every breath, and her fingers were cradled perfectly in his. Everything about them, against all odds, seemed to fit.
She moistened her lips and looked around nervously at the sweaty, dancing crowd that was beginning to swallow them up. “I thought you wanted to dance?” she shouted above the thundering beat.
He cocked one eyebrow, and before she could say another word, he started to move—giving her no choice but to follow. Holding her close, he led her around the dance floor, spun her, twirled her, threw her around in the most controlled, and yet out of control, way.
It was akin to swing dancing but… not.
Layla couldn’t catch her breath, and before she knew it, she was laughing loudly as he spun her out and pulled her back into the firm, warm shelter of his body. As the song ended, he whirled her out one last time, and she thought he might let go, sending her flying into the people who had gathered around them.
But of course, he didn’t.
He grasped her hand tighter, pulled her in, slipped one arm behind her back, and cradled her neck as he dipped her low. Both of them were breathless, her body suspended just a couple of feet above the dance floor and pressed tightly to his. She barely registered the applause and hoots from the circle of people around them. They hovered there for what seemed like eons, his mouth just inches above hers, and she thought that she could get lost forever in that smoldering stare.
“I told you that I wanted to dance,” he said between heavy breaths.
“That wasn’t dancing.”
“Oh no,” he said, slowly pulling her to her feet, but not releasing her from the confines of his embrace. Eyes firmly locked on hers, his hands slid down her back and rested on her hips. “Then what would you call it?”
“Foreplay,” she said in a far shakier voice than intended.
Layla tried to convince herself that she was breathless from the dancing, from the physical exertion of tearing up the dance floor, but staring into the dark depths of his eyes she couldn’t lie, even to herself.
William flashed her that devastating smile. “We’re just getting started.”
Before she could respond, the band burst into another raucous number, and he had her twirling on the dance floor once again. As William dragged her body against his, and those thick muscles in his shoulder rippled beneath her fingers, she found herself hoping that he was right.
They danced all night, and the band had even stayed on for an extra set because the crowd demanded it. However, after an extra hour of performing, they finally called it quits and were packing up their equipment as the last few patrons left.
William couldn’t remember the last time he had danced like that, with such complete and utter abandon, and he knew the only explanation for it was Layla. She lit something inside of him, something that he didn’t think he possessed anymore.
She touched the wildest, most carefree part of his spirit, something he thought had died with his youth, but somewhere along the way, she found it and ignited it. His Firefly.
William waited patiently at the bar for Layla as she took her time using the ladies room. He wondered what on earth women did in there that took such a long time. He sipped his drink and scanned the thinning crowd for any sign of Sylvia, but she was gone. When he’d walked out of the men’s room earlier that night, he’d immediately noticed a change in the atmosphere of the bar that set his teeth on edge.
A new ripple of energy snaked through the crowd, and it wasn’t good; in fact, it felt downright hostile, and it didn’t take long for him to find the source. It was coming from Sylvia Clark, and she was sitting at the bar next to Layla. Her hostility was most definitely directed at his mate, which was not at all acceptable.
Her energy signature was remarkably strong for a human, and when he attempted to scan her mind, he couldn’t get a solid read on her. She hadn’t been blocking him, at least not intentionally, but she was without a doubt, definitely
not
a typical human. Most humans were transparent, and their energy signatures were wispy, akin to tissue paper, practically nonexistent compared to the Amoveo.
The only humans he had ever encountered with dense energy signatures like Sylvia’s were psychic. In most cases, he’d be thrilled to encounter a woman like that, because she could potentially be a mate for one of his people. However, this woman’s energy also contained an extra layer of darkness, an ugliness that he couldn’t quite decipher, and that darkness had been aimed at Layla.
“Looks like you’re playing your cards right.” Raife’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. William turned to face Layla’s brother, who regarded him carefully from behind the bar. “I can’t remember the last time I saw her have that much fun.”
He spoke calmly as he wiped glasses dry before placing them on the rack. “I have to admit that she seems more comfortable with you than she does with most other people.” William opened his mouth to respond, but Raife held his hand up. “I’m not saying I like you,” he said abruptly. “But if you can make her happy, then that’s all I really care about.”
William nodded slowly. “Thank you… I think.”
The energy waves coming from Raife were thick with love and protection for his sister. He knew that Layla’s brother would do anything to keep her safe, and that was more than enough. William couldn’t help but like him.
Raife leaned both hands on the bar and brought himself eye to eye with William. “But if you hurt her,” he said in a quiet, deadly tone and with a smile that promised retribution. “I’ll tear off your feathered head.”
William held up his drink in a toast. “I would expect nothing less,” he said before taking a sip. Raife’s most admirable quality was his obvious devotion to his family, and that was something William could easily relate to. He hoped that Raife would come around where the rest of the Amoveo were concerned, because he could be an excellent ally against the Purists, and he had a sinking suspicion they were going to need all the help they could get.
“You would expect nothing less about what?” Layla asked as she hopped into the seat next to William. She narrowed her eyes and looked back and forth between the two men. “What are you two talking about? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were actually getting along.”
“With this guy,” Raife smirked and tossed a crumpled napkin into the trash. “I’m just being nice to the customers. All that dancing must’ve left you a little light-headed.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Layla murmured through a laugh that belied her doubt.
Their energy waves had shifted considerably over the course of the evening. They were actually starting to get along, and William could tell she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
“Well,” she said, answering Raife but turning her attentions to William, “you’re right about the dancing. It’s left me a little dizzy.”
“Let’s just say that we have one thing in common,” William said evenly as his gaze slid over her slowly. A smile played at his lips when their eyes met. “And it would seem that just one thing is quite enough.”
“Oh really?” Layla cocked her head and pursed her lips. “You know something? You are… unexpected.”
William’s eyebrows flew up in surprise. “I thought you’ve spent your entire adult life avoiding me, so how on earth could I be unexpected?”
“Hey, Layla,” Tyler shouted from across the bar and interrupted before she could answer him.
William attempted to hide his annoyance, especially from her ex-boyfriend. He assessed Tyler as he approached them: messy hair, along with disheveled clothing and black nail polish. All came together to create a typical indie-rock band lead singer.
Men like this had groupies, didn’t they? They banged women two at a time, and based on the girls lingering around the band, he imagined that Tyler was no different.
William’s jaw clenched at the idea of this person laying a finger on his mate.
Don’t be a dick.
Her perturbed voice sliced into his mind.
He’s just a friend.
William flicked his gaze back to Layla as she hopped out of her chair to greet her friend. He didn’t know what to say, because she was right. He was overreacting. He’d never been jealous of another man, and he didn’t like the way it felt one bit.
When Layla hugged Tyler with familiar ease, the most irrational flash of anger flared through William like a tsunami, and it took every ounce of self-control to keep his eyes from shifting. He wanted to pummel Tyler into the ground, and for a fleeting moment, he was afraid he’d actually do it. Steeling himself against the unfamiliar onslaught of emotions, William barely noticed Raife smirking at him.
“You know,” he said, hardly covering his amusement, “she never loved him. They were just kids when they dated.” William glanced at him as he continued to clean up behind the bar. “To be honest, I don’t think she’s ever been in love—at least not yet.” He sighed and shook his head. “So why don’t you quit fuming at the guy, and go over and introduce yourself? I thought you were a badass?”
A slow smile crept over William’s face. “I have my moments,” he said quietly.
As much as he loathed admitting it to himself, he knew Raife was right. It was evident that Layla didn’t love Tyler and wasn’t even attracted to him, since her energy waves pulsed with the warmth of nothing more than friendship. Accepting his stupidity, he did all he
could
do and walked over to be introduced to the man embracing his mate.
To his great relief, the two stopped hugging before he reached them.
William slipped his left arm around Layla’s waist and glowered at Tyler. “I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of being introduced.”
Tyler’s eyes widened as he looked William up and down. “Damn, man.” He laughed. “I’d definitely remember meeting you.” He offered a big smile and extended his hand. “I’m Tyler. Layla and I go way back.” He grimaced as William shook his hand with a bit more firmness than necessary.
Be
nice.
Layla elbowed him
. You’re twice his size.
“It’s nice to meet you.” William released Tyler’s hand and did his best not to smile. He was considerably bigger and could literally crush this human like a bug, so for now, just knowing that was more than enough satisfaction. “Your band is quite good. I haven’t danced like that in many years.” He looked at Layla and stroked her waist with his fingers. “It would seem I just needed the right dance partner.”
“Yeah, man.” He rubbed at his sore hand absentmindedly. “You two were tearing up the dance floor.” He looked back and forth between them. “So how long have you two been… dancing?” he asked with a knowing smirk.
“Oh… you know.” Layla laughed nervously. “Say,” she said swiftly, changing the subject, “I heard you guys are cutting an album. That’s really exciting.”
Chicken.
William teased.
“Yeah, actually, that’s why I wanted to talk to you. We need some shots for the website and the album cover. And since you’re the best photographer I know, and you just happen to be in town, I was hoping you would be willing to do it.” When she didn’t respond right away, he put his hands together as if in prayer. “Please?”
“Sure,” Layla said with some hesitation as she leaned into William and wrapped her arm around his waist.
William would’ve been completely ecstatic about her attentions, if it weren’t for the fact that she seemed to have done it out of the need for support. He sensed her nervousness and imagined that it had to do with what she might see in the pictures she would be taking. What worried him was how her abilities might be intensified by their growing connection, and there was no telling how her gift would amplify once they were actually mated.
“That’s freakin’ awesome,” Tyler shouted and pumped his fist in the air dramatically. “Sweet. She’s gonna do it, guys,” he shouted to his bandmates and then quickly turned back to Layla. “How much is it gonna run us?”
“Don’t insult me, Ty,” she said in a voice edged with humor. “Your money is no good with me, but when you get rich and famous, I get front row seats and backstage passes for the rest of my life.”
“Done!” He pointed at her and smiled, but his smile faded when he caught William looking at him. “I’d hug you, but I’m afraid your boyfriend will kick my ass.” He laughed and backed away dramatically as he looked from William to Layla. “We’re playing here again in a couple days. Can you come and take performance shots on Saturday night?”
Layla nodded and chuckled. “You got it, Ty. What time?” she shouted after him as his attentions were being demanded by the gaggle of ladies waiting.
“We set up at seven.” A young blonde draped herself over him and nuzzled his neck. “I’ll see you then.” He waved, and within moments, he was swallowed up by the group of girls buzzing around him. William fleetingly wondered if that’s why they called them
groupies
.
Layla glanced at her watch and whistled. “Holy Moses! It’s after two in the morning,” she said with more than a little amusement. “We better get home.” Her green eyes peered at him from under dark red lashes, and she smiled. “I may be almost thirty years old, but Rosie will still give me the stink-eye tomorrow for coming home so late.”
Layla slipped out of his embrace and headed back to collect her jacket and purse that she’d asked Raife to stow behind the bar. William looked for Tyler only to find that he was nowhere to be seen and neither were the girls. It didn’t take a mind reader to figure out where they’d gone, and what they’d gone to do. He knew several men, human and unmated Amoveo, who were constantly in the relentless pursuit of female companionship, and in his youth, William had done the same.
However, looking at Layla, he could no longer comprehend the desire to be with anyone else. She walked toward him, smiling, and tossing a wave to her brother. His throat tightened as the gravity of his feelings for her settled over him. He really did love her. There was no doubt about that, but one thought gnawed at him, and it was the one thing that threatened his very existence.
Would she ever love him?
***
On the drive back to the farm along the dark, tree-lined streets, Layla blasted the radio and sang lustily to the music at the top of her lungs. William hoped that the people in Upper Falls were heavy sleepers. Her energy waves were lighter. She was the happiest he’d ever seen her, and William couldn’t help but feel partially responsible for it. At least, he hoped like hell it was because of him. Or better yet, because they’d found each other.
Layla’s positive mood was contagious, and he even found himself tapping his fingers to the beat of the music as the crisp fall wind blew through the open-air Jeep. Perhaps things were actually starting to come together, and for just a moment, he allowed himself to believe that everything would work itself out.
It seemed a moment was all the universe would allow.
The dark surge of energy swamped him the instant Layla whipped the Jeep into the gravel driveway of the farm. The sudden wave of evil stole the breath from his lungs and had him struggling for control.
Pull
over
,
Layla
.
Stop
the
car
now.
He shouted it into her mind with all the force he could muster as his eyes snapped to their clan form.
Another Amoveo had been at the house.
The Jeep shuddered to a halt at the bottom of the driveway, but not before running over one too many rocks and popping a tire with a deafening sound that shattered the evening. With the engine idling, the two sat for a minute, breathless and shaking, as the air from the tire hissed like a snake beneath them.
Layla, sensing the same sinister energy, white-knuckled the steering wheel, and her eyes glowed brightly in the moonless night. Her small body shook with thready, uneven gasps, and her lips quivered with fear and anger.
“What-the-fuck-is-that,” she seethed through heavy breaths. She turned to him, her glowing eyes pleading with him for answers. “What the hell is that I’m feeling? I feel like I’m either going to puke or beat the shit out of someone.”
William steadied his breathing and wove his energy signature with hers, hoping to give and receive comfort. “I’m not sure,” he said, prying one of her hands off the steering wheel and cradling it in his. To his relief, she didn’t pull away, but linked her fingers with his. “Give me a minute to get my bearings.”
“Okay,” she said through a deep breath. Her glowing gold and green eyes flicked to him nervously, before fixating on the house at the top of the driveway.