The collar of his white silk shirt trimmed the collar of the sleek black leather jacket he wore. His jeans fit him as only Armani jeans could fit. His black boots were trimmed in silver.
Oh yes, Damon had flare.
He eyed her with his usual cockiness, but a slight smile almost reached his dark, amber eyes. Shawna smirked at him. He was one helluva attractive guy, and he damn well knew it!
Shawna believed in meeting things head on, so with a crooked smile she crossed back over the busy avenue and walked directly up to where he stood in the shadow of the building he was now leaning up against with his one broad shoulder. He folded his arms across his wide chest and said quietly, “Shawna.”
“Damon,” Shawna returned in a low questioning voice. She almost felt a conspiratorial air shift between them, but she asked, “Are you stalking me?”
“Don’t be daft, love. Why would I do that?” The English accent that was his birthright had never quite left him, although he had lived many of his vamp years in the United States.
“Oh, I don’t know, but I do know we saw one another at the airport when I arrived in Inverness, and now…lo and behold—here you are again.”
He grinned, and she admitted to herself that over the years she had found a certain endearing quality about him. She didn’t know how or when that ‘feeling’ had come about—she only knew that it had. Had she been wrong to feel that way? It would be sadly distressing if he turned out to be one of the ‘bad guys’.
“What—because I’ve chosen to linger a bit in Scotland?” He shrugged. “Shawna, I’m just going about my business.”
“
Lie.
” Shawna’s voice was a low, sad sound. “Why would you lie about that to me, Damon?”
“Right then, the truth is—yes, I knew you were headed here. I decided it wouldn’t be a bad place to be.”
“Why?”
“Now that…” He reached out and touched her pert nose. “…is my business. Perhaps I think there is safety in numbers…and although we only number two, we score much higher in the ‘power’ range’ together, don’t you think?”
“And you think we should team up?” Shawna scoffed.
“Not precisely, but as I said…together we have more than the usual power, and the ability to see them if they get too close.”
“Ah, and today, do you see anything coming our way today—is that why you are following me?”
“Not precisely following you. I have been wondering when you would find your way to a butcher or two—so, I’ve been waiting for you. Shawna, your scent is lovely, and it is also unmistakable. All I had to do was zoom around town until you showed up for your…er
groceries.
”
“Which brings me back to the all important question—why?”
“Mind now, I’m not certain about my information, but I rather think there is some truth in the rumor that Pentim might be interested not only in your skills, but in mine.”
“Interested in your skills?” Shawna made a face at him. “Like that would worry you.”
He bowed his head. “I thank you for your confidence in my ability to protect myself.”
“We still have to get back to the question—why, Damon, did you want to talk to me?”
“Don’t have many friends, but the ones I do have, I have had long enough to trust, and they hear things. That was one of the things they heard.”
“And the other thing?” she urged.
“I am not certain, but you are somewhere in the equation.”
“You mean if you were caught, you would offer me up if he would let you go?”
“Shawna, you stab me to the quick! Offer you up? First of all, I didn’t think you thought so very ill of me. Secondly, if I were taken by Pentim, he would have as much to fear as I…perhaps more, in spite of his clan.” He leaned towards her and whispered, “They don’t all love him, you know, and besides that
, I
would escape.”
Shawna laughed. “Think a great deal about yourself!”
“No, but I know my skills. I’ve had a very long time to develop the ones I will need against Pentim. I have anticipated this day, you see, and prepared for it. Pentim has developed his abilities, but he has a hot temper, and he allows his acquired power to be usurped by that temper.” Damon shook his head and made a comical face. “Very short-sighted of him.”
“Right then. I wish you luck, but I still need to know why—why have you been looking, waiting for me to show up?” Shawna.
“Because I have recently heard something else.”
“That concerns me?”
“Yes, love, it does. Pentim has obtained an old Fae relic. It is an Orb. I am certain he will soon learn the knack of using it, and when he does, he will look for you. I noticed the day at the airport that you didn’t have a shield in place. It is time you constructed one, although I am not certain it will hold against Fae magic.” He shrugged. “Trust me in this, Shawna—I really don’t want to see you taken.”
“And this kindness you are extending to me—is there a price you expect to be paid?”
“When did my pretty Shawna become so cynical? No, no price. I know you don’t want any part of Pentim and his world. I wanted you to have a heads up.”
She softened to him at once “Thank you, Damon, but what makes you think I am powerful enough to create a personal shield against a Fae relic?”
“Ah, Shawna,
we both know what you are.”
She blinked and he was gone. Vamps were fast, but Damon Drummond was the fastest she had ever seen. So, he knew something about her magic? And he knew she had the ability to put up a shield against a Fae orb?
Shawna thought about what he had told her. It would appear, at this point, Damon had not sold out and meant her no harm. That was something. She would rather have him indifferent if she couldn’t quite have him on her side.
He still might sell out if he couldn’t escape the Rawley clan. She sensed that Damon wouldn’t like being captured and used—oh no, not at all. He might do anything he could to escape—even buying his freedom.
“Thank you, Damon. Be safe,” she said into the air he left behind, and on the breeze, a whisper returned, “Aye then…”
Shawna was spooked. She knew it was because of the Orb—the Fae orb. They were immensely dangerous in the wrong hands. She didn’t quite believe that Pentim would be able to harness the Fae relic’s full power. No other than a Seelie Fae would know how to use it properly.
However, would even a rudimentary skill over the orb afford Pentim a look in her direction? Had Pentim already discovered where she was? It seemed like everybody else was finding her wherever she went.
This was getting way out of hand.
She thought about the Orb and felt certain that Pentim hadn’t found her through the relic’s ‘crystal ball’ power. She hadn’t felt the intrusion she knew she would have felt if he had. She had to get home and envelop herself in a shield. Her spell wouldn’t be foolproof, but it would be better than nothing.
She jumped into in her serviceable Jeep and headed out of town as fast as she could legally go. She didn’t want to bring down unwanted attention from the law—or anyone else for that matter.
Along the way, she dialed her grandparents with the new cell phone she had purchased, and she discovered that they still had the ability to make her feel ‘safe and loved’ during their long conversation. She gave them assurances that she was far from feeling, however. She clicked off the phone and sighed sadly, wishing they were near, wishing they could hug her…
For a moment she thought she was going to burst into tears. She sniffed and bucked herself up. She had to be strong. She had to be ready. Tears would diminish who and what she was. She sniffed again and got hold of herself.
She had flipped the phone and shut it off. It reposed on the seat beside her, and without warning it did what it was not supposed to do when it was powered off. It rang and made her jump high in the driver’s seat as she clutched the wheel.
She looked at the phone as she made her way back onto the A-9 route to Stockton. It kept ringing. She knew it wouldn’t stop until she flipped it open. She knew who it was.
Chad MacFare.
She had thought when he left the other day that he was done with her. In fact, she had to admit to herself, when he had left, she had felt a twinge of disappointment.
She picked up the phone and couldn’t believe that her heart was actually beating faster than it should. She couldn’t believe the anticipation that suddenly flowed through her veins and tingled in her brain.
His voice arrived in her ears, and her heart skipped—actually stopped, skipped and started thumping like a rabbit’s paw. His voice made a beeline for her blood, infiltrated it, and as though a match had been lit to it, her blood began to bubble.
Stop!
She yelled silently at herself.
Hormones
, nothing more…
“Get what you need?” his voice was a low caress. She was aware that her eyelids got lazy.
Get what you need
repeated in her brain.
Hell no
, she thought as a tickle made its way up her inner thigh. She ignored the sensation and snapped, “Don’t you already know?”
He laughed. “I don’t have a ‘seeing eye’ if that is what you mean.”
“Really, I was sure that you did—and
horns
!”
He chuckled. “No horns, but other appendages if you would like to investigate.”
Her imagination went to work, and she pictured him suddenly very nearly naked. She clicked it off and cleared her throat before roughly asking, “What do you want? I thought you were done with me.”
“Ah, and worried about it, no doubt,” he returned in a tantalizing tone. “Now that is a loaded question, lass—what do I want…?”
“You didn’t call for
that
, so tell me, just why you are calling.”
“Now what makes you think I didn’t call for …er…
that
? I believe
that
might be just what you need.”
She gasped. “Of all the unmitigated…” Unable to finish the words or the thought, she hung up on him.
Nothing. When he didn’t call back she told the empty car, “Good—don’t want him to call back. Good riddance.” However, truth was, she didn’t feel that way at all. She wasn’t sure what she felt, but ‘good riddance’ didn’t fit the bill.
* * *
Shield in place, traps inside and outside the cottage, Shawna looked around and counted it a good day’s work. She had found her way to Inverness, she had found the butcher and obtained her week’s supply and she had experienced her first ‘heart to heart’ with Damon. Again, she felt as though she could trust him, and then she doubted herself. Chad MacFare? She wasn’t going to think about Chad MacFare.
Shawna nodded as she looked around her small cottage. Right, so why, she asked herself, did she feel so empty inside?
It was nearly six, the day was waning, and there was something in the color of the Scottish sky that was softly glowing. The scent of spring was everywhere and invoked a spring fever yearning, but Shawna felt alone. She was a young woman, and she was at the moment, completely without someone special in her life. That was the crux of it all—her body was looking for a man to fit her. Her body didn’t care if he fit her future—it was demanding he fit her skin.
She scowled to herself and then suddenly sniffed the air. His scent filled her with a sudden hazy giddiness. She chided herself and frowned darkly. It was odd that he always seemed to be able to sneak up on her before she knew he was there.
His scent—enticing, vanilla, pine, and something else…
orchards
. Her hormones kicked into gear, and she felt a tickle of excitement as she spun around to face him. He stood, tall, devastatingly hot, and totally in command as he took up more space than her small cottage foyer allowed.
“Hello, Shawna, are you ready to go?”
“Go? What do you mean,
go
, and how did you get in here? You should not have been able to get in here!” She eyed him with unconcealed irritation. And then because she couldn’t help herself, she asked again, “Go?”
“To dinner,” he returned softly, ignoring her other question. He took a moment to look her over audaciously. “You
look
…er…
ready
.”
The expression in his green eyes was undisguised, and she felt a sudden savage betrayal tickle her body. She turned and walked away from him as she collected herself.
Once more in control of her wayward hormones, she turned back to him and made her silver eyes drip ice. “As it happens, I am never ready when you are concerned.”
He laughed. “You don’t lie very well.”
“I don’t lie—at least…not much.” She shook her head and put up her hand to object. “You can’t just come waltzing in her and ask if I am ready.” She looked at herself. She was wearing a black sweater, jeans, and black boots. Was she ready? What was she thinking? She wasn’t going to dinner with him…
“I came waltzing in her to make a point.”
“What point would that be?”
“That all your hard work—all your efforts and idiotic spells—won’t keep the worst, the strongest of them out when they come.”
“They are vamps—
you are not
. I don’t know what you are. My ‘traps’ won’t keep you out evidently because you don’t fit the bill—not quite human and not a vamp. My traps are for vamps, no matter how skilled.”