Copyright © 2010 Crystal Jordan
All rights reserved — a Samhain Publishing, Ltd. publication
Total Eclipse of the Heart
I watched my husband leer at another woman’s breasts. The woman—a werewolf named Candy—was stacked. Just the kind of girl I used to shag before I met my mate. Jerrod’s rich laugh reached my ears and made me smile. It was a game to flirt with our customers at Eclipse. A game we played well.
Eclipse was the nightspot for things that went bump in the night. Things any smart human didn’t want to bump into. Ever.
As a werewolf, I was one of those things. And so was my mate.
“Hi, Rachel!”
“Hey, Cole, Marty, Frank.” I nodded to some of my regular patrons as I passed, putting an extra swing in my hips because I knew they’d stare at my ass as I walked by. They should at least get a good show, right? All three of them were fairies…and by fairies, I didn’t mean the kind that dug on other men. I meant the kind who had to tuck in their wings to get a shirt over their heads.
I took a deep breath, letting the familiarity of the bar wrap around me. The splashes of noise from people and music. Perfect. I’d worked my whole life to get this kind of stability and routine. It was something my mother had never provided while I was growing up—but my mate had, and I loved the man more than life itself for it. He made damn sure I had everything I needed and then some. We’d made a crazy success of Eclipse in the four years since we’d opened our doors. He wanted to expand and open a second club, but change was something I always resisted. Things were so fantastic right now, why mess with a good thing? A wry grin pulled at my lips. It would probably take him another six months of showing me business plans and financial projections before I gave in and agreed. I shook my head and sighed.
Winding my way from the stockroom to the bar, I carried two cases of domestic beer behind the sleek black counter. My werewolf strength made it easy to bear the load, something that wouldn’t have been possible for a human woman. I set the cases out of the way and dusted off my gray top and short leather skirt. Glancing up, I smiled at Cynthiana Trent. She and Candy often came to Eclipse—probably because it wasn’t kosher for the leggy vampire to have a werewolf as her best friend, but my mate wouldn’t let anyone hassle them. Eclipse was neutral territory and anyone who broke that rule got their ass handed to them by Jerrod as he showed them to the door. The werewolf pack leaders weren’t all that pleased that we served vampires, but so far we hadn’t given them any reason to meddle in our business.
Vampires and werewolves had hated each other for centuries. It wasn’t until a few years ago that we’d all come out of the closet about what we were and let humans in on our hairy little secret. It was the escalation of fighting that made us public—and because of that, we’d outted all the other magical creatures with us. I’d never gotten involved in the conflict, but vampires were a weird lot. Anyone who lived forever just could not be normal. I was happy with the couple hundred years I’d get as a werewolf.
While I stepped up to the bar, an enormous vampire approached Cyn, and she offered him a fuck-off-and-die look. The man was gorgeous, all chocolate skin and pale green eyes. Still not as attractive as Jerrod, but then, no vampire could compare to a full-blooded werewolf. I knew it was a prejudiced thought, but he was my man. I could be biased if I wanted to.
“Hey, lover.” I wound my arms around Jerrod from behind, kissing the mated bite mark on his bare left shoulder. My bite mark. He often tended bar without his shirt on, so I was surprised into laughter when he turned in my embrace and I saw he was wearing a bow tie.
“Hey, yourself.”
“You look like a Chippendale dancer.” A giggle bubbled up in my throat.
He gripped my hips, pulling me closer so I could feel his erection. “Just wanted to give you something to unwrap for our anniversary. Since you have to work tonight.”
“Only for another hour, then Benny will take over for us.” A slow smile pulled at my lips as heat exploded through me. Just like that I was wet for him, wanting him. It was always that way between werewolf mates. Hotter, stronger, better than it could be with anyone else. God, I loved him. Needed him. Right now. I eyed the long bar, wondering for a moment if our customers would mind if we put on a little show for them. Five minutes, that was all I’d need. Two even.
His midnight blue gaze raked down my body, taking in the beaded nipples that stood out against the thin material of my top. He shook his head, a hot predatory gleam in his eyes. “You’ll have to wait, Rach.”
“Damn.” I squeezed my thighs together, willing the relentless ache to subside. It didn’t. Swallowing back a helpless whimper, I arched my hips against him to rub myself on his thick cock.
His big hands stilled my hips, fingers tightening when I tried to move. “You don’t want to play that game.”
“Don’t I?” I licked my lips, desire winding through me as his gaze followed the motion.
“No.” His fingers slipped up to clench in my long dark hair, pulling my head back. Dipping forward, he nudged my shirt aside to expose my collarbone. And the bite he’d marked me with five years ago. He closed his mouth over the mark, sucking hard.
My back bowed hard as a lightning flash of pleasure arced from the mark to my dampening pussy. I gasped, my fingers curling into claws on his shoulders.
Big Girls Don’t Die
That damn evil hellcat.
I was in the shower just as my day began, right at the crack of sunset, when a huge crash sounded through my teensy bathroom. I jerked back the curtain to see what the hell was going on, when Beelzebub streaked across the floor and tackled the overflowing trashcan, which spewed the contents everywhere. And still, he attacked the trash. Shit. A cold rush of dread made my stomach do back flips. Somehow, I knew he’d cornered a rodent. In my bathroom. With me trapped, sopping wet and stark ass naked in the bathtub. This was a hell of a way to start Valentine’s Day.
So. I had to deal with the whole mouse situation, not the least of which because he was about to slaughter the thing on my landlord’s cream-colored carpet. And who carpets a rental in cream? I hopped out of the tub and into the scattered trash. Wads of things I didn’t even want to think about were stuck to the bottoms of my wet feet.
Since I couldn’t kill it, I had to get rid of it. What did I do to deserve this? I caught sight of myself in the floor to ceiling mirror and tried to ignore the fact that all I could see reflected back at me were my wide blue eyes. What I couldn’t see was the rest of me, the pale skin, the mile long legs and too-generous hips and thighs. The dripping black hair that was sleeked to my scalp. The pointy fangs. None of it, because I was a walking spawn of Satan.
I tossed Beelzebub into the living room, grabbed the tallest glass from my kitchen and played tag with the stupid mouse until I finally scooped it up and slammed a plastic dish over the top. No need to let it try and escape, right? Right.
Then I realized I was still buck-naked, and I had to toss the mouse out into the yard. After I set the glass on my dresser, I snatched my nightshirt off the dirty clothes pile and pulled it over my head. With my Winnie-the-Pooh nighty stuck to my wet skin and the mouse in a glass, I jerked the door open and launched my uninvited guest…right into the broad, scrumptious chest of my worst nightmare.
Andre St. James, the man responsible for turning me into the undead. His large dark-skinned hand snapped out and caught the tail of the mouse. When he brought it up to his eye level, the hairy little guy squeaked in mad terror, prey before a predator. I could relate. I’d had those pale celery-green eyes trained on me enough times to know that I melted into an orgasmic puddle within a few seconds. He dropped the mouse that, like a smart little rodent, ran like hell. Unlike me, who stayed where I was with my mouth agape.
“Cynthiana.” The way he said my name, with an emphasis on the first syllable, made it sound like something naughty and sinful. His Noo Awlins accent made everything sound naughty. The man could read a phonebook, and I’d get turned on.
Heat flooded my body, and my nipples tightened. His gaze zoomed right in on the pointed tips. I swallowed.
Don’t panic, girl! He’s a bad, bad man who turned you without asking pretty please first. Even if he was gorgeous and had skin like yummy milk chocolate. Even though he tasted just as good as he looked. Delicious in every possible way. Mmm-hmm. Wait, what was I thinking? Bad, bad man. Remember? Shit.
“Yes, Satan?” I propped my forearm on the doorjamb and cocked a hip. My other hand kept a death grip on the doorknob. Right now, it was the only thing keeping me from flinging myself at him and begging him to shake me all night long.
His full lips quirked, and I swayed toward him. “Invite me in.”
“No.” The word escaped as a sigh.
His long finger lifted to stroke my elbow, the only part of me that stuck out of the doorway. Hot flashes rippled out from the touch, and I wanted to rip my nighty off and run around with my panties on my head. If I had any on. Which I didn’t.
“Invite me to come inside.”
It’s Raining Men
A shiver ran through my body when Michael’s calloused fingertips slid over the back of my hand. I flushed for an entirely different reason, thankful that his actions were hidden by the table so Cyn wouldn’t know. My thighs clenched together as he drew slow patterns on my skin, raising goose bumps up my arms. I should pull my hand away, I knew. But I couldn’t make myself. Not tonight. I needed…something. The restless ache that gnawed at me had built to a fever pitch today, and I just couldn’t force myself to deny my mate’s touch. Just this, just for now. A shudder ran through Michael’s big body as the song continued, and I could smell the way my own desire melded with his. His shoulder brushed against me, and his fingers toyed with mine.
Stephen’s gaze slid back and forth between Michael and me, the sinful glint in his eyes showing he knew exactly what effect his voice had on us. Heat wound through me, battering at my control. The wolf in me was suddenly awake, alert. I barely managed to bite back a helpless moan. Time stretched out as one song after another played, revving my body up with longing. I could stay like this all night, Michael petting me, Stephen singing to me.
Cyn’s cell phone lit up and rattled across the tabletop as it vibrated. Michael and I jolted. His hand left my skin, and we both turned to look at his sister. She scooped up the phone and gave us an apologetic look. Pushing a button, she pressed it to her ear. “Hello?”
Concern sharpened her features, and her hand came down on Andre’s forearm. I faced her fully and both men came to full attention, leaning toward Cyn. “Are you sure? No, no. It’s fine. Andre and I can come home.”
Andre was already pulling bills from his wallet, more than enough to cover the drinks on the table, and pushing his chair back. “What is happening, cherie?”
She flicked the phone closed with her chin and looked at me. “Looks like you’re being spared more birthday torture. Desi’s come down with something and is throwing up. My aunt is freaking, so we’re going to head home and clean up the mess.”
“Is she okay? Maybe I should come with you.” Michael moved as if to rise, and both Andre and Cyn waved him back down. The two vampires had taken in Cyn and Michael’s young human cousin while at the same time helping their druggie aunt get clean. It had been pretty rocky at first, but things had been going well for the last few months. I adored Desi and hoped this little emergency didn’t derail her mom’s progress.
Cyn tucked her phone into her handbag. “We can handle this. There’s been a stomach bug going around at her school lately, so I’m sure it’s fine.” Bending forward to kiss my cheek, she hugged me good-bye. “Happy birthday, honey. Sorry to leave you two alone. Can you make sure she gets home safe, Michael?”
“Of course.” His hand bracketed the back of my neck, and he heaved a long-suffering, put-upon sigh. “I’ll drive her home so she can have another three or four whiskeys if she wants.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not drunk, Michael. Just because your sister is a total lightweight doesn’t mean all women are.”
“Well, now you can drink like the heavyweight champ you are. You have a designated driver.” He grinned down at me, massaging my nape in slow circles. I shivered and jerked my gaze back to Cyn. But the vampires were already hurrying for the door, people stepping out of Andre’s path at just a look from the big man.
The music from the stage came to a slow close, and Stephen spoke into the mic. “Well, folks, that’s all for the evening. Thank you for coming. Let’s have a hand for my band and for the amazing owners of the best magical bar in town.”
He led the crowd in raucous applause as his bandmates took a bow and Rachel, Lena and Jerrod waved from behind the bar. Then the siren sketched a quick bow himself and the crowd leaped to their feet and screamed. Michael and I were no exception. We both stood and clapped hard. Stephen flashed a quick smile, gave a jaunty little wiggle of his fingers and jumped off the stage to head straight for our table.
“Hey, you.” Stephen walked up and wrapped his hand around the back of Michael’s neck, pulling him forward for a kiss.
I blinked and stared at them. They broke apart and turned to face me. Stephen leaned back against Michael’s broad chest, but gave me that same wicked smile he’d given me from the stage and an obvious once-over. My eyebrows arched in surprise. “Um…”
“Candy, I’d like you to meet Stephen. Stephen, this is Candy.” Michael grinned at me, not a hint of embarrassment on his face. He was comfortable in his own skin, in his sexuality, and I couldn’t help but think it made him sexier. It just meant he still wasn’t for me. Damn it. “Candy’s my sister’s best friend and the head chef for the werewolf pack leaders.”
“Sounds tasty.” The Fae-siren man slid his hand into mine, his fingers warm and strong. “Candy.”
A mischievous twinkle flashed in his eyes, so common a look among the Fae. A fairy who was a fairy. I wished it was funnier than it was. I mostly just wanted to cry as he leaned into Michael’s embrace.
Michael’s laser blue gaze bore into me, and I could only hope I had a better poker face than I thought I did. “It’s interesting that you wanted to see Stephen perform since I’ve been…ah, seeing him perform for a few months now.”
“Interesting. Yeah.” Why didn’t the Earth just open up and swallow me whole now? I’m ready to go now, God. It couldn’t possibly get worse than this.
And then it did.
Stephen’s hand slid out of mine, his fingertips stroking over my palm. My instincts gave a painful jolt just then, burning away what was left of my alcohol-induced buzz.
Mate. Stephen. Mate.
Holy shit on a shingle.
It couldn’t be. I refused to believe it. There had to be something seriously out of whack with my instincts if they were telling me I was supposed to claim two men as my mate. Two gay men. Who were not just gay, but gay together.
Crazy Little Thing Called Love
My brother crooned into the microphone on stage, and I think every female in the vicinity swooned. Oh, who was I kidding? Most of the men too. Stephen Parthon’s appeal was pretty universal, and he had both a male and a female mate to prove it. A proud grin curled my lips, but I hid it by taking a drink of my margarita. As a ball-busting music company executive, I couldn’t appear too much the doting big sister. I had my reputation to protect after all.
“Hey, beautiful.” Some drunken troll staggered up, winked and flicked his fingers against my wings, which made my whole body jolt. “Wanna take me flying?”
And I really meant troll. Even for his race, he was an especially ugly one. I had to work hard not to wrinkle my nose or slap him with enough fairy magic to really send him flying. Attacking him, of course, would get me kicked out of the bar, which I didn’t want. “No, thanks. Maybe some other time.”
“Okay,” he slurred, grinned, and staggered back the way he’d come. At least he was a happy drunk.
I twitched my wings to get the feel of his fingers off them, brushing a hand down my short, sparkly silver dress. Backless, as were most of my shirts and dresses. I loved my wings, so why not show them off? They looked like black and purple butterfly wings, with little inward curls at the bottom that framed my ass. Might as well showcase all my best assets right?
Shifting on the barstool, I crossed my legs and propped my elbow on the polished wooden surface that stretched along one side of the renovated warehouse that was the Eclipse bar.
It seemed fitting that my brother’s going away show should be here, in a magical bar, where our journey had begun over a decade ago. Stephen’s career had skyrocketed during the past year. We’d sold out the world tour within the first week and had to add tour dates. It was a crazy, crazy thing. Not that I was complaining, but I had to stay in L.A. and take care of the business. Someone else managed the day-to-day aspects of Stephen’s career now instead of me. It was a good thing. It meant growth for us both. Money. Security. Stability. Independence. Things we craved.
Well, maybe not the independence for him, but definitely for me.
He got that about me though. He’d always had this understanding about him that people loved. That and the natural charm and charisma from his mother’s siren side and our father’s Fae blood made him an unstoppable ball of empathetic energy. People drew to him like moths to a flame. It had only gotten more powerful as his relationship with his two mates deepened. The magic that unfolded between them had balanced him somehow, gave him the emotional stability to really soar. That kind of love, I couldn’t give him. He was my brother after all.
But I had to admit, deep down in the soft, mushy center of my very cynical soul, that I wouldn’t mind a little bit of that for myself. Especially now that he was leaving.
Loneliness was a totally foreign emotion to me. I preferred being on my own, and when our father died, I was a nineteen-year-old kid and my seven-year-old half-brother had come to live with me. It had been a rough adjustment for both of us. I don’t care what the legal age of adulthood was. At nineteen I was still a kid raising a kid. Going through all the custody rigmarole meant there were so many people telling me what I should do and how I should do it and when and where and what the rules of parenting were and…and…and… It never stopped. I like going my own way and doing my own thing. I crave it, in fact. I need my independence, which is probably why, at thirty-nine, I’d never even had a twinge of desire for a husband or kids.
So, watching Stephen find so much happiness with his mates had been great, but it did remind me that having someone in my life might not be a bad thing. Then again, all the men who’d applied for the position had inevitably tried to control me and simply couldn’t accept that I had commitments on my time that I couldn’t ignore just because they were feeling needy. I don’t mind ties with other people that keep me grounded, but I was born with wings—I need to fly.
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