Palm Haven Shifters: Complete Five-Part Series Page 17

  Heat rushed to her cheeks and she knew she’d said more than she meant to. The questioning look that Callan gave her told Ashley that he didn’t understand.

  “My magic,” she waved a hand, trying to explain while words evaded her exhausted mind, “it’s basically powered by sex.”

  “So… an orgasm recharges your battery?” he teased.

  Ashley giggled. “Something like that, yeah. And you did a marvelous job of recharging my battery the… uh… other day.”

  His eyes warmed and his grin turned mischievous. The hungry look he gave her made Ashley shiver.

  “I’d be more than happy to top you off,” he said, his voice low and husky in her ear.

  Ashley’s magic rose up in response to his suggestion — eager, needy, and insatiable. She bit back a moan as he kissed her neck, gently nipping at the place where it met her shoulder, trailing kisses and whispered devotions across her heated flesh.

  A shiver tickled down her spine and she sorely wanted to say yes.

  “Um…”

  His hand slid around the back of her neck, pulling Ashley in for a kiss. Unbridled energy pinballed through her and she struggled to catch her breath as he lit her entire body on fire. She was merely a wax figurine, melting completely at his molten touch.

  “Callan, wait,” she muttered.

  He looked up and cupped the side of her face with one enormous hand, his calloused thumb gently tracing the contour of her bottom lip. His gaze held her eyes in place, locked with his — endless depths of warm chocolate brown, drinking in every detail of her face, pleading with her in unspoken supplication.

  “Please, Ash,” he finally spoke in a whisper, making her shiver. How could she deny this man anything he asked? “If you won’t allow me to guard you physically, let me do this one thing to make sure you’re prepared for whatever they’re cooking up.”

  Oh, god, why couldn’t he just want into her pants for some skeevy reason like a normal guy? He had to go and be all noble about it. And so damn sexy.

  Ashley felt drunk. Drunk on Callan and his pheromones. Dizzy with need for him, her libido ratcheted up past eleven.

  Her head nodded on its own, but Ashley was grateful for an end to the dilemma.

  Then he was taking his shirt off and all thoughts slipped from her mind as if it had just been wiped clean like a chalkboard.

  “Uh…”

  He pressed a finger to her lips. “Shh.” He then took care to spread his shirt out over the metal grate below them before gently lowering Ashley onto her back.

  She felt a little silly lying there, but then he was peeling her jeans back and she gasped as cool air met hot skin.

  Callan kissed up her inner thighs, making her quiver and pant in anticipation as her magic grew more restless than ever. His warm breath replaced the cool air on her bare flesh and Ashley shuddered.

  She knew she shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as she was. She knew that none of this should be happening. She knew it was wrong to be with a shifter, but, oh god, did it feel good.

  Magical energy expanded within her, filling her with warmth and energy unlike anything she’d ever known — firecrackers in her veins. The early morning sun that warmed her was no competition for the heat Callan filled her with.

  Callan’s tongue traced the length of her eager slit and Ashley felt her hips rise to meet him as she drifted away on a cloud of effervescence, so far above the ground. She never wanted to come back down. His persistence had her on a tight wire; so close to the edge at just the barest touch from this man.

  This man with such strong hands and such a gentle touch. This man that worshipped her with his tongue and made Ashley see colorful spots even with her eyes closed.

  His complete and utter adoration surprised Ashley, but it comforted her. Allowed her to relax and lose herself to the moment. To forget ancient prejudices and the fact that she was half-naked in public.

  “Oh, Callan,” she muttered over and over again, her fingers clutching at his scalp.

  A deep guttural growl rumbled from within Callan’s chest, reverberating all the way to Ashley’s very core. She shattered into a million pieces under his expert tongue, the world still spinning as she tried to open her eyes once more.

  Before she could even process everything, Callan had one hand under her hips as he worked her jeans back on.

  She tried to say a few different things: Wait. Stop. I’m not ready for this to end. But instead of any of those things, her mouth simply hung agape, soundless.

  Callan spotted her expression and gave her a rakish grin before capturing her lips with an extended and hungry kiss. She tasted herself and moaned, wishing they could have more. Wishing she weren’t so reluctant to accept… this. Whatever this was. Wishing that they were somewhere else. Someone else.

  He broke the kiss and cupped her face again. “Thank you for a wonderful time, Ashley.”

  She hated herself for it, but for a brief moment, her eyes flicked to his crotch. How could he get her so turned on and then just re-dress her? Did she not have the same effect on him that he had on her?

  But no. The bulge in Callan’s jeans betrayed his cool facade. Ashley knew if he asked her for more right now, she would give it to him in an instant.

  She flattened her palms against the hard planes of Callan’s chest, desperate to feel his bare skin against hers.

  “Shouldn’t I… reciprocate?” she asked with another darting glance to the strained denim.

  Callan shut his eyes and sucked in a breath, seeming to brace himself for whatever he had to say next.

  Then his arm was around her and Ashley wanted to whoop in triumph.

  But no, his arm wasn’t around her; he was reaching for his shirt, covering up all of those gorgeous muscles.

  “While I’d like nothing more, this is not the time nor the place. I hope I’ll see you again soon, Ashley,” he said while she stared at him too dumbfounded to argue.

  He brushed aside the clump of hair she was always puffing at and smiled. “I really hope I’ll see you again.”

  All she could do was nod and try to swallow the thick lump in her throat, try to push back the sting of tears and the feeling of rejection. It was stupid. She didn’t want anything to do with him anyway. How could she be this upset that they hadn’t had sex?

  Because what we did have was the single greatest experience of your life?

  Still, she didn’t try to argue and made her way home in a trance-like state, her magic at a rolling boil. The moment she walked through the front door, Ashley’s exhaustion hit her like a rampaging rhinoceros. She shuffled into her bedroom and collapsed on the bed without even bothering to undress at all. Her body hummed with the aftermath of Callan’s ministrations, but Ashley didn’t let herself think about Callan too much. Thinking about him made her question things. Things she never questioned before. It made her uncomfortable and frankly, she was too tired to think.

  Only a few hours later, her alarm burst to life, telling her it was time to find Estrella’s grandson. It seemed like she’d only just closed her eyes. How had that happened so quickly? She dragged herself out of bed and splashed plenty of water on her face before looking at her cell phone hopefully: nothing.

  She shouldn’t have expected Callan to call.

  She shouldn’t want Callan to call.

  But damn it, she did.

  No time for that now, though. She had a rendezvous with a young witch and her son.

  The streets on the other side of town were dim with damp fog that clung to the asphalt. Imagining a dozen different cheesy horror flicks that started the same way did absolutely nothing to soothe Ashley’s anxiety.

  Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, she thought, looking at the scrap of paper in her hand.

  The address was smudged after living at the bottom of her purse for two days, but she was pretty sure she could still make out all of the numbers.

  Maybe she shouldn’t be getting involved in shifter affairs. Witches weren’
t supposed to be confrontational; their magic was rooted in good and even the thought of hurting someone with her powers made Ashley feel a little queasy. The power of three bound witches to using defensive magic — unless they wanted to suffer a fate thrice as terrible as their foe.

  But Estrella said that her daughter had suffered at the hand of this shifter. It went beyond shifter affairs at that point. Now it was just the right thing to do.

  Besides, she’d begun to learn that not all shifters were bad. Her memory flitted back to Callan. His broad tongue teasing her pert nipples, rough and sensual all at once. His fingers taunting her until her toes curled in ecstasy. She imagined how incredible his cock would be…

  No, she couldn’t let herself think about that right now. He’d lied to her. Or at least wasn’t forthcoming about who he was. There was no chance of reconciliation there.

  So the water tower meant nothing?

  Coven witches and shifters did not mix.

  Still, Ashley remembered the way they’d lost track of time getting to know each other. Staying up to watch the sunrise. Never wanting it to end.

  The memories made her body respond in ways she wish it didn’t. Her magic responded, too. Memories of Callan brought a flush to her cheeks. The ensuing surge of emotion she felt towards him made her powers crackle to life, reaching and seeking out the man that made her so much more in control.

  He helped her focus the wild torrents of magic that flowed through her, helped her direct it, build it and control it. She’d never been all that powerful before Callan, but now she felt nearly indestructible. It was all him.

  For that, she almost couldn’t forgive him. He’d given her a taste of what every Coven witch longed for. And she wanted it. She wanted to control her magic, she wanted her stores to always be full, to have that undeniable soul-deep connection with another that was unrivaled. But why did he have to be a bear? Fate certainly had a cruel sense of humor.

  Ashley followed the directions on autopilot and reached the address that the old lady gave her without even realizing it. She lifted her hand to knock. Nervousness bubbled inside of her and made her wonder if she was being foolhardy for coming here. For accepting the assignment to begin with. For any and everything she’d done with Callan.

  Foolhardy was putting it gently.

  Sure, she could have told the rest of the Coven about this boy, but how many of them would even want to help? The boy was half-shifter and getting involved only put the witches in the crosshairs.

  Sage and Esther were as isolationist as they came, too. The Coven wouldn’t lend a hand or even lift a finger. It was going to be up to Ashley. And she didn’t mind it that way. She didn’t want to risk anyone else getting hurt. She realized how foolish and dangerous this whole thing was. This woman was on the run from an abusive, violent man. Even worse, that man was a wolf and very likely came with a pack of equally violent and unwaveringly loyal men.

  As much as Ash didn’t want any harm to come to her fellow witches, she couldn’t let a little boy be dragged into the seedy underworld of violence and crime. He needed an advocate and if it came down to her, so be it. If someone had to be the sacrificial lamb to save this little boy from the glorified gangs that shifters organized themselves into… she’d volunteer.

  The door opened a crack and a single hazel eye peered through the opening, darting back and forth looking for danger.

  “Yes?” The young woman spoke, not removing the chain from the door.

  “Hello, my name is Ashley, Estrella asked me to come by?” Her heart hammered — no turning back now.

  The door slammed in her face.

  For a moment, Ashley was completely shocked. She’d come all the way out here, risking her own neck, only to have a door slammed in her face?

  The sound of a chain rattling stopped her from turning to leave and the door opened again.

  The young woman — she couldn’t have been more than 23 — ushered her inside with a frantic hand gesture.

  “I’m going to kill that crazy old woman!” she shouted once Ashley was inside.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “I told her to stay out of it! Manuel is my son. I don’t want him taken away from me,” she cried.

  Ashley frowned. The mother didn’t want her son taken to the safe house? She watched as the younger woman latched half a dozen deadbolts and re-hooked the chains. The windows in the tiny duplex were barred and the only furniture was a questionable looking couch and a card table with two rusty folding chairs.

  Despite all of this, Ashley couldn’t find a speck of dust or dirt and as she looked around a little more, she noticed signs of a little boy: a crayon drawing on the fridge, dinosaur stickers on the bedroom door in the hallway and the well-loved ear of a stuffed rabbit sticking out from between the couch cushions.

  “I’m sorry you wasted your time. My son isn’t going anywhere.”

  Ashley knew she should just keep her mouth shut and move along. She’d been ignoring a lot of the things she knew lately.

  “Is this life,” she gestured around, “a life on the run, the kind of life you want for your son?”

  The young mother cast her eyes downward and turned her head to look around. Long chestnut hair fell over her shoulder, revealing a large fading bruise on her neck.

  Ashley gasped and took a step forward. “Did his father—?”

  She narrowed her almond-shaped eyes and pursed her lips before nodding. “Diego. We only just moved here after his last… visit,” she said, something burning behind her hazel eyes.

  “Has he ever hurt Manuel?” Ashley asked.

  She didn’t need an answer. The look of shame that darkened the woman’s eyes told her what she needed to know.

  “Not at first. It was just me. One day I saw him shove Manuel. He claimed they were roughhousing. But I already knew the monster inside of him. I was not going to let him hurt my son anymore. It’s been nearly a year. I don’t think Manuel even remembers, thankfully. But he should be enrolling in school and…” She finally looked up from her dry, cracked fingertips and looked ashamed.

  “Here’s my number,” Ashley said, scribbling it down on the back of the address Estrella had given her, “if you change your mind, or need anything, call me, please. I can help you, I promise. Just give me a chance.” Her heart went out to the other woman. She wished there was more she could do. Anything.

  Hazel eyes glistened with wetness as the woman took the scrap of paper and Ashley’s hand.

  “Thank you for what you’re doing,” she said, “but I can’t give up my boy. He needs his Mama. I can protect him.”

  Ashley nodded without argument. Who was she to say this woman couldn’t protect her son? Maybe Estrella was one of those overbearing mothers that didn’t know when to take a hint. “I wish you well,” she said, and turned toward the door, seeing herself out.

  Chapter 12

  CALLAN

  After leaving Ashley at the water tower, Callan had just enough time to race home, take an ice cold shower and shave before showing up at work ten minutes late, bleary-eyed and disoriented.

  They were back at the manor worksite. The place where he’d met Ashley. Where his entire world had turned upside down.

  “Yo!” A heavy hand clapped his shoulder and Callan’s knees nearly buckled under the force. “You look like shit. Bad night?” Ramos chuckled, digging in his lunchbox for something. He produced a miniature bottle, emblazoned with promises of 7 hours of crash-free energy.

  “I think you need this more than I do,” he stage-whispered.

  Callan grunted. “Now, how shitty are you going to feel when I tell you I just had the best night of my life?”

  Ramos’ eyebrows shot up. “Oh yeah?”

  Callan ripped the wrapper off the little energy shot and downed the whole drink in one big gulp, pulling a face at the bitter fruity flavor.

  Not at all like the sweet musk of Ashley he still remembered on his lips. He could use the energy, but getting that taste ou
t of his mouth may not have been worth it.

  “Yo, you listenin’?” Ramos said, waving a hand in front of Callan’s eyes.

  He blinked, trying to focus on something, anything that wasn’t that delicious witch.

  “Yeah,” he lied, trying to reach back in his memories of the last few moments for any hope of figuring out what his co-worker had said. Nada. Only visions of Ashley’s creamy thighs spread before him came to mind. Only the sweet memories of her face contorted in ecstasy and the post-orgasmic sparkle that lit up her emerald eyes from within.

  Ramos just gave him an exasperated look, like Callan didn’t cover for his ass every other day.

  “Just go help Victor,” he said with a furrow between his wild eyebrows.

  Well, that was a shift in power dynamic. Normally it was Callan bossing Ramos around. For once, he didn’t mind being told what to do. His mind was so overloaded and so exhausted, that making his own decisions felt like an impossible burden.

  Minutes dragged on like hours and hours felt like eternity. The energy shot he’d taken did not last seven hours as promised, but by the end of his shift he didn’t feel like complete death. So maybe it did something. He hoped Ashley had gotten some rest.

  And there she was in his mind again. Without invitation. Without provocation. She just belonged there. No sense in denying it.

  He yawned and stretched as he looked at his watch, hoping he’d be free soon. Hoping he’d be able to crawl into bed and hibernate. Maybe curled up with a certain someone. That sounded like heaven. As he glanced over his shoulder to see his co-workers wrapping up their tools for the day, the front door of the manor opened and two cloaked figures exited.

  Callan froze. Was this the witch Ashley thought was out to get her? It took a great feat of will to resist shifting right then and there as the familiar scent reached his nostrils. His hands balled into fists at his side and he bared his teeth at them as they walked down the front path, a low rumbling growl reverberating through his chest.

  Another familiar smell hit him with the wind: wolves. But… that didn’t make sense. If she was allied with the tigers, why would she be conspiring with the wolves? Unless…