Secret Worlds (132 page)

A hand settled on her shoulder. “She chose her own fate,” Kheelan said in a low voice only she could hear. He knew her so well it was scary. But mostly wonderful.

“Ace of Cups.” Glenna slapped down the cards theatrically. “Five of Cups and Five of Swords.”

“What do they mean?’ Katie asked. “I can’t remember all the tarot symbolism.”

“Tanner will be moving to a new place and may have new beginnings in love,” said Glenna. “He’ll face problems and troubles and also struggle with his fear of commitment.”

Michael snickered.

“Bring on the ladies,” Tanner said, gathering up his crutches. “We better get going my man. Piedmont’s a long drive home in the morning.”

He and Michael said their goodbyes – much to Katie and Glenna’s disappointment.

“I’ll see you at home in a few days,” Skye said to Michael.

Home. She and Mom still had lots to work out. But at least they’d been talking – really talking – these past few weeks.

As they left, Kyle and Katie’s parents came through the door. Kheelan tensed and Skye touched his hand under the table.

“It’s so wonderful to finally meet you.” Mama D rushed to the door and took their coats.

The attractive older couple made their way over. Mrs. Jeffries eyes immediately sought out Kheelan. A well-manicured hand touched her throat at the sight of him. Mr. Jeffries strode straight to Kheelan and shook his hand. “Katie’s right. There’s a strong resemblance between you and Kyle. Remarkable.”

Kheelan nodded and returned the warm handshake, a muscle tightening in his jaw.

“Yeah, but Dad, once you’ve been around them a few minutes you can tell the difference easy. Kyle’s hair is curlier and his expression’s all different,” said Katie.

Mrs. Jeffries sank into a chair beside Kyle, her face pale and tight. Kyle kept glancing at his mom and tilting his head to one side. “Mama, okay?” he asked.

Glenna gathered up the tarot deck and shoved them across the table to Skye. “Time for me to head out too,” she said.

So pathetic. And obvious. With Tanner gone, Glenna’s interest in the party was over.

Under the table, Kheelan’s hand squeezed hers as everyone engaged in small talk. She couldn’t imagine how hard it must be having his long-lost parents show up and not be able to tell them he was their son.

His mom was shaken. She kept stealing glances at Kheelan and had trouble keeping up her end of the conversation. When their family finished desert and rose to go home, Mrs. Jeffries hung back. Before leaving, she placed a hand on Kheelan’s cheek, so much like Kyle’s.

She knows something
.

“Katie’s told me how kind you’ve been to Kyle these last few weeks, taking him to the movies and out to eat,” Mrs. Jeffries said. Her eyes – so similar to Kheelan’s—were moist. “You’re welcome in our home anytime.”

“I’ll take you up on that that,” Kheelan said, his voice gruff.

Skye looked away, feeling like an intruder. Gathering dirty dishes, she carried them over to the kitchen where Mama D was loading the dishwasher.

“Why don’t you go home?” she said. “I’ve got this covered. When I’m done, I’ll lock up.”

Mama D dried her hands on a dish towel. “That’s an offer I can’t refuse. I don’t know what I would have done without you lately, what with Claribel’s death and all. I can’t get over how quick it happened. One weekend we were having a grand time at the psychic fair and the very next week she falls down the stairs at home and twists her neck.”

Skye shuddered. That was no accident. “A shame,” she said quietly. But she knew it was no freak accident – the Dark Fae had punished Claribel for letting Skye escape.

“I hope wherever she is, she’s with her precious fairies.”

“I’m sure they have a special place for Claribel,” Skye assured Mama D.
In some deep, dark pit
. Skye thought of Finvorra and wasn’t sure the Seelie fairies had been any less harsh. His punishment for abusing Kheelan was to be stripped of all fairy powers. Now human, psoriasis of the liver worked its poison. Finvorra wasn’t long for the world of mortals either.

Mama D slipped out and Skye reentered the coffee house. Kheelan again stood alone by the window. He had much to learn about human social interaction. She went over and wrapped her arms around him, felt the solid warmth of his body. “You’re not alone anymore,” she whispered fiercely.

He stared straight ahead. “The first time I saw you I knew that.”

“Because you recognized I was The One who could rescue you from the fairies,” she teased.

“No, even before that. I caught a glimpse of you through the store windows the first night I came to town. There was something about you . . .” He laughed self-consciously. “I followed you to your apartment.”

Skye pulled back in surprise. Kheelan wouldn’t look her in the eyes. “Stalker,” she laughed.

He kissed the top of her head. “See what you do to me? I stood out there in the dark, miserable cold listening to the fairies taunt me. I never would have thought –.” He paused, fumbled in the pocket of his jacket, and pulled out a tiny box. “For you.”

Skye lifted its lid with trembling fingers. The goldstone she’d once given him was now mounted on a braided gold chain and shone as brilliant as a sliver of sunshine, warming her palm as she picked it up.

“You told me the stone helped people remember their dreams and destiny.” Kheelan slipped the necklace over her head. “
You
are my destiny, Skye.”

Kheelan kissed her. A mind-bending, toe-curling kiss that Skye swore could steam up the nearby window. And when it was over she held him tight.

A tiny flash of light flickered in the darkness. Skye blinked. No way it could be firefly this time of year. She wiggled her fingers in a wave where the light had shone and it reappeared, flashing in response. A pixie.

Kheelan stepped away. “Let’s clean up and get out of here.”

At the table, Skye started putting the tarot cards in its box. “You’ve never read my cards,” said Kheelan. He pulled up a chair and tapped the deck. “Hit me.”

“It’s not a poker game.” Skye shuffled and pulled two cards – Six of Wands, and Eight of Cups. “You have the strength to overcome any obstacles and obtain victory through your powerful will.” Skye pointed to the Eight of Cups. “You let go of the past and look toward the future.”

Kheelan whistled. “What do the cards foretell for you?”

Skye spread out all seventy-eight of the tarot and ran her hands over them until she felt a warm tingling in the palm of her left hand. “This one.” She set it aside, face-down, and gathered the rest of the cards back together.

“Well, what is it?” he asked.

“I don’t have to look. It’s the Knight of Pentacles.

Kheelan flipped it over. “Neat trick. I’m impressed.”

“It’s no trick. The card represents someone very important in my future.”

Kheelan’s brown eyes darkened to a deep sable. “Do I know this person?” His right hand, free of its tattoo, roamed over her wingless back.

Skye touched his lips. “It’s you,” she whispered. “The cards and crystals tried to tell us all along that we belonged together.”

The End

Blurb: A shapeshifting mermaid is in danger after witnessing a killer at sea, but how can she help her boyfriend, the sheriff, solve the crime without revealing her deepest secret?

http://www.amazon.com/Sirens-Secret-Dark-Seas-Book-ebook/dp/B00D4MVHQC/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

Debbie Herbert writes paranormal romance novels reflecting her belief that love, like magic, casts its own spell of enchantment.

Married and living in Alabama, she roots for the Crimson Tide football team. When not working on her upcoming books, Debbie enjoys recumbent bicycling with her husband as well as spending time with her two adult sons.

A past Maggie finalist in both Young Adult & Paranormal Romance, she’s a member of the Georgia Romance Writers of America. Debbie has a degree in English (Berry College, GA) and a master’s in Library Studies (University of Alabama).

Amazon Author Page:
http://www.amazon.com/Debbie-Herbert/e/B00F96OXUI/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_pop_1

“No, that’s just rude and inappropriate,” the soft male voice insinuated its way into my reading. A pause, then he continued his one-sided conversation. “Stop for one minute and imagine you’re a woman alone in the city and two guys walk up to you. You probably wouldn’t feel very safe, would you?” Pause. “Okay, one guy and his
dog
.”

At first, I didn’t realize they were talking about me. I was happily curled up in a comfy armchair with a copy of Patricia Briggs’ newest book open on my lap, already enveloped by the satisfying welcome of a werewolf pack, albeit a fictional one. Yes, this is what my life had come to—it had been ten years since I’d last seen a werewolf anywhere other than in a mirror, so I relied on books to get my pack fix. Depressing, but true.

Momentary pleasure aside, the whole day had been one long mistake. I usually tried to stay away from the big city, but when I woke this morning, my inner wolf had felt like it was gnawing at my bones and my stomach ached with the absence of pack. Filling the gaping cavity in my soul with an imaginary wolf pack seemed worth lying to my boss, putting my good sense on hold, and playing hooky for the day.

Only after I’d settled in a chair by the bookstore’s front window, paranormal fantasy in hand, did I see the error of my ways. Or rather,
hear
it. At first, I’d merely blocked out the man’s words as they drifted over to insinuate their way into my reading, but now I noticed the frustrated, yet loving, twist to the man’s tone. Despite my better sense, curiosity made me peer up from my page and crane my head around to seek out the source of the conversation.

The speaker was about my age, and he did have a canine with him, but the slight smile on my lips leftover from overhearing his words was quickly stifled as I realized that the monstrosity was no dog. It was a wolf, and not just any wolf—the man’s companion was a werewolf like me.

While you might think that would be a good thing given the yearning in my stomach, I had kept my distance from other werewolves for a very good reason. Now was not the time to go back. I could feel my cheeks heating up, and the man’s voice became distant as terror stole blood away from my ears, sending the nutrition to my tensed muscles instead. I had to get out of there fast.

This danger was the precise reason I rarely came to the city. Even though the area was out-territory, not owned by any wolf pack, who was to say I wouldn’t bump into another werewolf drifting through? As much as I hated my history, my father was an alpha and I was aware that I smelled like the best kind of mate material to male werewolves. The alphas, especially, were used to taking what they wanted, and one glance into this wolf’s eyes was all it took to prove he was as alpha as they came.

The reality was that I had fled my home pack a decade ago to prevent a forced mating. And even though the packless ache in my stomach was a constant reminder of what I’d lost, in the light of day, that pain still seemed like a good trade for my independence. No way was I going to let a momentary slip rope me back into being an alpha werewolf’s pawn—I needed to get out of this wolf’s sight immediately.

Even though I hadn’t paid for my book yet, I figured it was a worthy casualty to save me from being drawn back into the werewolf world. So I dropped the text onto the couch cushions, sprang to my feet, and speed walked out the door, back into the seeming safety of the street. My car—and freedom—were only two blocks away, and I could almost taste how good it would feel to slam the door, pop the locks, and hit the accelerator. I could be back in my empty cabin in half an hour, this close call forgotten.

But my car was still out of sight when I heard the bookstore’s door open and close behind me. No longer concerned with appearances, I broke into a run, S
tupid, stupid, stupid
echoing through my mind in time to the beat of my shoes on the pavement. I couldn’t let myself believe that this is how I would be sucked back into a pack, due to a chance meeting in a bookstore while reading about fictional shifters. If I’d picked up
Twilight
instead, would I have been treated to a sparkly vampire?

Even as that thought drifted through my adrenaline-charged mind, I realized that no one’s footsteps pounded after me. I would be able to see my car as soon as I rounded the corner, and for a moment, I thought I might be safe. Maybe I’d misread the acquisitive gleam in the alpha’s eyes; maybe a random customer had left the store soon after I did, not a hunting werewolf.

But I knew better. With one short bark, the wolf stilled my flight, then the man’s voice came a beat behind, asking me to wait. But it was the alpha’s command, not his partner’s words, that had stopped me in my tracks. Just like my father’s orders had been impossible to disobey, now another alpha had taken away my free will with one bark.

I was so angry and terrified, I almost expected to feel my wolf rising up through my skin the way it used to in the Chief’s presence. And for the first time in a decade, I would have welcomed her strong protection rather than being afraid of the wolf’s wild nature and sharp teeth. Instead, I heard only my human mind, which reminded me that there was no sense in running now that I’d been snared in the alpha’s net. Taking a deep breath, I let my shoulders slump as I succumbed to the inevitable.

***

As much as I wanted to stay in place and ignore the approaching alpha, I couldn’t let danger creep up behind me unseen, so I turned and waited for the duo to catch up. As they advanced, I focused on the man instead of the wolf for the first time and noticed that he was clearly a werewolf just like his partner. He was also apologizing profusely even before he reached me. “I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry!” he exclaimed, switching the leash he held into his left hand so he could reach out to shake mine. “I’m Chase, and my very rude friend is Wolfie.”

Although I was both terrified and angry, I liked Chase on sight. He was the kind of male werewolf who didn’t have an alpha bone in his body—the golden retriever of the lupine world. He was also handsome, but not full of himself, and I could tell that this one werewolf was friend material. In fact, if there had been more Chases and fewer Wolfies in the world, I might have tried to join another pack after fleeing mine, but werewolf packs were inevitably run by alphas, and every alpha was like Wolfie … or like my father.