Tricks & Treats: A Romance Anthology (8 page)

“You want to know something?” Samantha says to him, still watching her daughter.

“Yes,” replies Bellamy.

“You said you came to help me, but I think maybe there's a flip-side to that coin.”

“A flip-side?”

“Uh-huh. It's something I noticed, as soon as you appeared in my room actually. The guy you look like, Glenn McArdle, he was one of the most upbeat, happy-go-lucky guys I've ever met. Which is why you just don't match. There's a sadness about you. You wear it lightly, but it's there. An old wound you've tried to forget but it's right there, right through the middle of you.”

“Samantha, how do you know all this?”

She shrugs. “I've lived a long time, I guess. Seen a lot of heartache. I know my way around old wounds.”

He doesn't reply, but he keeps her words in mind while he accompanies her down through the forest, within earshot of the young couple, who cling to each other and laugh as they slip-slide on the soft snow.

“I miss her too,” says Tom, putting an arm around Renee's shoulder. They stop. She glances back through the trees.

“I think she's still here,” Renee whispers. “I think she's watching out for me.”

Her roughneck boyfriend, who in his full dark beard and Klondike hat bears a strong resemblance to Robert De Niro in The Deer Hunter, doesn't look the type to be easily spooked. “That's what she told me to do, the last time I saw her. 'Make her feel safe', she said. 'Renee's a worrier. If you give her cause to worry, she'll drive you crazy. But if you make her feel safe, she'll make you the happiest guy alive.'”

Renee gives a wistful sigh. “She liked you, but she didn't like how much time you spend away. I think that's what she meant by that. The whole worry or feel safe thing. I think that was her way of telling you...”

“That her daughter wouldn't be happy with a roughneck?”

“I guess. Something like that. I am, though. Happy, I mean. It's just...”

“You don't ever want to go through what you've been through today. I totally get it. I don't want to put you through that again.”

“It's not even the worrying,” she adds. “It's just that...I can't lose you too. I'm not strong enough for that.”

“You won't have to be.”

“Promise me?”

“Way ahead of you, babe. I made that promise when we had to bail out of the chopper this morning. Freezing water, fifteen foot seas, the storm getting worse all the time: it took forever for the lifeboat to reach us, and all I could think about was getting back to you. So from now on, I aim to stick around. My roughnecking days are done.”

“You really mean that? You won't resent me for it someday?”

“Never. It's not like it was my calling or anything.”

“I don't deserve you.”

“True,” he replies with a wink. “But you're getting me anyway.”

She kisses his cheek. “I will, you know.”

“Will what?”

“Make you the happiest guy alive. You just see. Mom was right about that.”

“I know.”

They hold each other close while they make their way across the footbridge over the icy stream that winds down through the valley toward Skagway. Samantha elects not to follow them any further. She turns to Bellamy instead. “I'm ready. I've seen everything I needed to see.”

“It turned out the way you foresaw?”

“Close enough.”

“I knew there was a touch of destiny about you,” he says.

“Look who's talking, Mr. Grim Reaper.” To his surprise, she takes him by the hand. Another first. “Well, maybe not so grim after all. I'd say there's hope for you yet.”

“Hope for what?”

“I'm not sure. Maybe you can figure it out.”

He doesn't reply. But everything she says strikes a chord in him, notes echoing from his former life into a tune he can't quite place but which fills a hole inside him. It awakens a longing. A desire to be close to someone. To have what Renee and Tom have. What Samantha has had in her life. What he lost long ago.

“So what happens next?” she asks, wide-eyed.

“Now we take a journey.”

“Is it arduous?”

“Not for such as you.”

“What is it like...this other place?”

“I've never seen it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don't belong there. I accepted this calling instead.”

“Then it called you for a reason.”

“Yes.”

“But you also chose to accept it,” she points out. “If I were you, I'd remember that.”

“I will.”

“Okay, I'm ready now.”

“Everything is about to go dark,” he explains. “Darker than a dreamless sleep. Let the darkness take you. Drift into its embrace. Imagine it's guiding you along the current of a cosmic river, a current you've in fact been on your whole life. It will lead you to the great beyond, the glittering shore that awaits you there. I'll be by your side until the first light of the great beyond flickers across the darkness. When I leave, others will take my place to help guide you the rest of the way. They may be souls you've encountered. Family and friends and animals you've known on your earthly journey. That is the end of my domain and the beginning of yours...”

Moments after he leaves her to her fate, he's already intensely curious about his next assignment. His next rendezvous. It's another woman. Blythe is her name. And though he's never met her, he can feel the touch of destiny awaiting. It's a sense that maybe something even more extraordinary can happen. If he lets it.

The End

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About the Author

Published author and freelance writer/editor,
Candace Osmond
was born in North York, ON. From there she began her journey of discovering Canada with her parents, moving every few years and experiencing what every province had to offer. She was surrounded and influenced by many cultures which broadened her mind and personality. Coming from a family of writers and artists dispersed throughout, it was inevitable that Candace follow in her family's footsteps.

She published her first book by the age of 25, the first installment in a Paranormal Romance Trilogy to which two others were published with it.
The Iron World Series
.

Candace is also one of the creative writers for
sssh.com
, an acclaimed Erotic Romance website for women which has been featured on NBC Nightline and a number of other large platforms like Cosmo. Her most recent project is a screen play that is pending a nomination for an AVN Award.

Aside from writing, Candace did get her certification for Interior Design and Decor. After years of working with fellow designers, architects, and home owners, Candace won a Peak Award for Best Kitchen Design.

Now residing in a small town in Newfoundland with her husband and two kids, Candace writes full time developing articles for just about every niche, more novels, and a hoard of short stories.

Connect with Candace online! She LOVES to hear from readers!

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Story Four

Eyes Have Seen by JJ King

Katherine smoothed the red satin dress over her hips and turned to take in her image in the full length mirror. She grinned.

Thanks to her cousin Damien, her chin length auburn hair had been temporarily darkened beyond recognition to a deep onyx black that shone beneath the lights in her bedroom parlor. It had been slicked back, severely, emphasizing the cut of her cheekbones. With the help of more makeup than she’d ever used in her life, she’d highlighted and accentuated some parts of her face and blended others into the background until she looked like a different version of her normal, more casual, self.

The dress she’d chosen was perfection and not at all what she would normally choose for an elegant affair like tonight. With her flaming red hair, she often went for deep blues, royal purples, and her personal favorite, emerald greens. Tonight, though, in honor of the masked ball her parents were throwing to celebrate Halloween, she’d stepped outside of her comfort zone and chosen to wear a deep red satin gown, one that hid very little of her attributes.

She looked like sin itself, she thought, smoothing her hand over her flat stomach. This new century was proving to be quite entertaining, if only for its advances in fashion. Thank the Old Ones she was finally interested in fashion. A hundred years ago she’d spent most of her time dressed as a boy when in her human form.

That was one of the best things about her parents, she thought, they had never pressured her to adopt societal norms, although her mother had regretted not getting to dress her little tom boy in beautiful period dresses. The early 1800’s fashion in France hadn’t been too bad, she remembered, but her hatred of all things
haute couture
had arisen early with the advent of bustles and corsets. Wolves did not enjoy corsets.

Her wolf liked this new style very much, mostly because the slippery fabric skimmed her body and could slide right off with a minimum of effort. Plus, it felt nice on her skin.

Katherine reached for the lipstick she and Damien and painstakingly picked out to perfectly match the shade of the dress and carefully applied it, careful not to get any on her teeth. The result was stunning. She looked like a completely different woman.

Maxwell wouldn’t know what hit him.

If they were human there’d be no way he’d recognize her, but seeing as their olfactory senses were heightened as wolves, he would know who she was immediately. Still, her change would shock him and she loved nothing more than shocking her boyfriend.

The final part of her costume lay on a white piece of velvet inside an ornate box, a mask she’d had shipped from France for this very occasion. It was simple in comparison to her mother’s, which was made entirely of jewels, but she loved the drama of its simplicity.

Katherine fit the black lace mask over her eyes and pulled the black ribbon back around her head, tying it securely. She looked in the mirror one last time.

The woman standing there was frighteningly beautiful, with sharp features and deep red lips. She had a figure to die for and an aura of danger that suggested she actually could and would kill if prompted.

Perfect.

Guests had been arriving for some time now and she was perfectly aware that it was part of her responsibilities as first born child of the Alpha to greet and mingle with the wolves her parents had invited into their home. Her parents took responsibility very seriously, but her mother was savvy enough to understand the impact of a perfectly timed entrance. Everyone would stop and take notice when she walked in.

Katherine pressed a hand against her stomach, which was suddenly very queasy with nerves. She’d thought up this crazy scheme as a kind of coming out. Everyone downstairs had known her for the past hundred years and saw her more as a child than as a woman. She wanted to change that and tonight had seemed the perfect opportunity.

They’d all know her instantly, of course, just as Maxwell would, but that would give her even greater impact.

She took a deep breath and steeled herself, it was time.

Katherine lifted the long skirt of her gown and stepped carefully down the mahogany spiral stair case, keeping her gaze straight ahead. There were a few people coming in through the doors who stopped and stared at her. She could hear their deliberate inhalations and then shocked murmurs as they realized who she was.

Taught by the best, Katherine smiled politely at their guests and greeted them warmly but succinctly, then moved on towards the ball room. It was located on the main floor at the back of the house and was rarely used. Back in France they’d held balls regularly, but here in the new world people lived much further apart and traveling took quite a bit of effort.

The double doors to the ball room were opened wide and music from a jazz band Sylvie had hired from Montreal filled the air. Katherine grinned, her mother had impeccable taste in music, always had. This new style, though, was fantastic. She’d contemplated wearing one of the shorter styles of dress so she could dance, but had decided that her coming out should be a tad more glamorous. After all, she had her mother to live up to.

Katherine paused as she stepped into the doorway and eased her lips into a mysterious smile, one she’d literally practiced for weeks. The laugher and noise of the guests stopped short as all eyes turned to her.

It took all her determination and will to refuse the blush that threatened to stain her cheeks and ruin her calm, composed, appearance.

As always, her parents were the ones to rescue her. Sylvie LaFlamme skimmed across the dance floor in a floor length gold gown that shimmered under the light of the million candles she’d had arranged throughout the room. Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction and Katherine could see, even though the bejeweled mask, that her mother had never been more proud of her than in this moment.

Her father, Pierre, usually so stony faced in public, beamed at her from his wife’s side with a smile that he reserved for family and close friends. He didn’t say a word, but she knew he too was proud.

“You’re perfect ma fille.” Sylvie whispered the words then pulled Katherine into a delicate embrace, careful not to crush either of their finery.

“Merci mama.” Katherine whisper back.

When they parted, both women were as composed and regal as queens, which technically Sylvie was. Katherine nodded to her mother, kissed her father’s cheek lightly, then glided into the crowd to mingle and find Maxwell.

She was chatting with a group of her cousins, including Damien, who was taking all the credit for her look, when a gentle hand slid over her waist. Katherine inhaled the familiar scent of book ink and old leather and smiled. She turned slowly and sized up her boyfriend who was dressed from head to toe in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo complete with wings. He was gorgeous.

She stepped into his embrace and tilted her neck to look up into his eyes. He was at least a head taller than her and had been ever since they’d met. She’d liked that she was able to wear heels and still look up at him. It made her feel feminine, which wasn’t something she’d felt often but was liking more and more.

He stared down at her for a long drawn out moment, taking in her kohl lined eyes, her blackened hair, and her slinky devil red dress. She watched as his eyes turned from the palest of icy blues to a deep, dark, intense color that practically screamed with desire.

His response made her thighs clench together. As intimate as they were with one another, their private time together was usually quiet and sweet. They’d been together for over nineteen years, ever since his family had moved to a nearby town from Europe. It had been exciting, getting to know him, and discovering that she loved him deeply.

Sometimes, though, she wished for a bit more, a little danger to get her heart racing. Maxwell was the perfect boyfriend; a true gentleman and the sweetest boy she’d ever known. But their relationship felt adolescent and she wanted to grow up. She hoped to usher their relationship into the future and ignite the spark that was inside her and, she hoped, him. That was half the reason she’d chosen her outfit so carefully tonight. Grown up Katherine was planning on being a lot more sensual than her previous self.

Maxwell licked his lips and leaned into her, taking in a deep breath of her scent. The ache between Katherine’s thighs turned to a deep, thrumming heat. She took a step closer and pressed her body against his, sliding her arms up and around his neck as the band launched into a slow, sexy jazz number.

She knew there were eyes on them as they moved slowly around the floor. Despite the throng, her transformation was on everyone’s lips and that was the way she’d planned it.

Maxwell’s hands pressed into her hips, aggressively. Katherine stopped thinking about the people around her and took notice of her boyfriend. He was breathing raggedly, his body tense as he moved her around the dance floor. She shifted her gaze up and was shocked by the jagged lust she saw in his usually easy going eyes. The heat inside her grew to a hot pulse of desire. She needed to be alone with him now.

Feeling insanely confident, Katherine stilled and rose up onto her toes, bringing her mouth up to his jaw. “So, there’s this new book that just arrived from Paris,” she whispered as softly as she could into his ear, knowing all the ears in the room were preternaturally born. She trailed her fingers along his neck, sweetly, then dug her nails into his skin and purred, “I could show it to you… I mean, if you’re interested.”

She unwound her hands from his neck and turned on her heels, then walked slowly out of the ball room without a second glance. There was no doubt in her mind that Maxwell would follow.

It felt strange and heady, this newfound feminine power. All through her childhood she’d tried to assume her rightful dominant place over her brothers, arguing with them against the stupidity of the patriarchal Alpha system. She was first born so she should have the right to rule. But the laws were written in stone, as her father reminded her repeatedly, and there was nothing he nor anyone else could do about it.

It made her fume inside. The injustice of being overlooked just because she was a female in a male’s world.

Tonight she felt strong and capable of doing anything. It was shocking to think that a change in her outward appearance could do so much to alter her perspective, but here she was, gliding down the hallway of her home with a near panting wolf chasing her metaphorical tail.

The library was at the opposite end of the house, near her father’s office. At parties like this, her mother usually locked the door to discourage anyone sneaking off to find privacy. Katherine paused in front of the door and waited until Maxwell was directly behind her, almost pressed against her, to pull her long satin skirt up one inch at a time until a black lace garter was exposed on her thigh.

Maxwell’s eyes shone with intensity as she flipped open a tiny pocket sewn onto the garter and drew out a single item, the key to the library.

Katherine smiled wickedly. She’d planned this evening perfectly.

It felt like their first time. Their actual first time had been beautiful, on a blanket under the blue sky after they’d shared a picnic. It had been every girl’s dream. He’d been every girl’s dream. But now she wanted more.

The problem was, he wasn’t her soul mate. She knew it, but wasn’t altogether sure if he did. Sometimes, wolves who were fated to be mates could go years without knowing, without feeling that life altering bond that changed them from friends to bonded souls. There was this feeling deep down in her bones, though, that knew he wasn’t the one fate had in store for her.

Fate could be a bitch that way.

Still, there was no telling how long it would be before she’d meet the wolf who completed her and she’d be damned if she’d let herself be a spinster for however long that would be. She was young, smart, and now she was sexy as hell. It was time to start having a bit of fun with her femininity.

The door opened with a snick and a whisper. Sylvie didn’t allow creaky hinges. Katherine stepped inside the room and let Maxwell pass her before closing it and turning the lock from the inside. They shouldn’t be interrupted now.