The Carver's Magic (35 page)

I watched Shane’s eyes lighten, “She said she would love to hang out.” He lifted his eyes, “When should I drop her off?”

My wolf punched at the seams of my skin. Shane is trying to invade our space. Hell no is that going to happen. I opened my mouth as Theya took a step in my direction, totally cutting off my thought process and focusing on the fact that her body was so close to mine. I could practically breath on her vibrant orange hair.

“No. I will get my things. You can take me to her.”

As she took a step back I could smell eucalyptus swirling around her. I tilted my head, wondering if that was her lotion, and then I wondered why I only just now smelled it. When I found her eyes they were watching me carefully. Another moment passed and she nodded and then walked away.

I watched her leave, wondering what that meant. Did she just stop me from pouncing on Shane? And if so, how did she know? I’ve learned to school all my facial expressions so that no one, not even Isla knew what I was thinking.

Shane waited until she was upstairs to say, “I asked your brother to let Theya stay in his pack.”

My wolf growled. He was interfering with something that wasn’t his business.

Shane must have sensed my thoughts because his eyes glowed ice blue, “She needs to be somewhere safe, because they will come looking for her.”

They?

The smell of cinnamon hit my nose just as the pixy rounded the corner. Her finger pointed at Shane, “I already told you no, I am not leaving here.” And then she pointed at me while still talking to Shane, “And you are not going to lay my safety on anyone else’s shoulders. Are we clear?”

Shane’s eyes were back to normal, “We will talk about this later.” Then he walked to Theya and I could feel my claws descending as I saw him get closer to her.

When they both disappeared my wolf growled again. Without another thought I headed up to her bedroom in search of her new heels. My wolf had plans for those hideous looking things.

* * *

I left her shoes where she would see them the second she walked in the door. But she didn’t come back that afternoon or later that night. In fact, I had completely forgotten about the shoes when I heard the front door and smelled lavender in the early morning.

I dismissed her coming in until I heard, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” That pricked my ears up and I sat up, looking at my bedroom door.

I thumbed the bed for a few more minutes before I pushed myself off the bed and pulled on a pair of white, knee-length basketball shorts. Opening my door, I was assaulted by an overwhelming presence of cinnamon. I could taste it; the smell was so thick.

I quickly made it to the front door and stepped outside to cleaner air. I took in a few deep breaths before I looked at my ‘51 Chevy truck. I could go for a drive and find a desolate spot to let my wolf run, because letting him run where there were too many people wasn’t safe. He would attack anyone within smelling distance. Or, I could just go for a run now and not waste the time going for a drive.

I looked down at my bare feet, deciding if it was worth it to go back inside for shoes. Deciding against it, I turned left at the end of the driveway and ran.

I ran past the houses and the near by park. I ran past the sketchy parts of town and into the undeveloped end of the city. I ran until my wolf no longer felt stiff with anxiety. I was thirsty but there wasn’t a place nearby for water, and I didn’t want to continue down this dirt path that lead to my brother’s pack. I don’t know how I ended up this close or why I even went this way.

Shaking off the odd feeling in my chest, I began the trip back to the house, stopping once by the first park to get a drink of water.

At the house I walked in, knowing my feet were leaving wet outlines and my shorts were wet with my sweat. I headed to my room and stopped short.

I smelled something amazing. Something I have not smelled since I was a boy. Unique meat. Raw meat.

Karaboo?

“What am I smelling?” I asked out loud as I walk in the kitchen, but I am pretty sure it’s Karaboo.

The fairy didn’t answer me, in fact I noticed her shoulders tense up. She’s holding her phone to her ear and I can hear Beth on the other side telling her to leave the meat until the sides turn a light shade of brown.

I walked in and stopped right behind her to look over her shoulder at the pan as the meat was being seared. I look down at the pixy who is stiff, and her smell changed from lavender to eucalyptus. I ignore the questions racing in my mind, asking why the hell am I getting so close. I reach around her and pull the tongs from her hand. I have successfully enclosed her in and there is no way out, so I am not surprised when she pushes back against my chest. In fact, it doesn’t even register as a threat. She tries to push me again and then groans. I can feel the vibration of it. She turns around and lifts the phone to her ear, never taking her eyes off me.

That is when my wolf pricked up. He wasn’t sure what to expect, and I was also unsure what she was going to do. Her eyes didn’t look angry, not the angry I was used to seeing in Isla’s eyes. The look that I was going to be punished, severely.

Nope, instead, right now, her eyes are drawing me in and every single inch of me is aware of her. I can feel her on my skin and against my thighs. A hint of peppermint swirled around her. Her breaths were shallow and I leaned down to get a better smell.

Then I heard Beth yell through her phone:
Theya? You still there?... Why are you – Is Cort there? What did he do? Theya!

I grabbed the phone and crushed it in my free hand. I threw the phone in the living room and was starting to feel my claws descending.

I can’t explain why I just did that, but I couldn’t have stopped myself if I wanted to.

The pixy wiggles out from in between me and the stove range to pick up the pieces of her phone. I can see her eyes are shimmering with tears unshed. I watch, unable to look away because something inside me is making me watch this and it’s drilling it into my memory.

She finally takes the pieces to the trash and I am free to look down at the pan with two large steaks in it. If I remember correctly, fairies don’t eat meat. They were all leafy green eaters or something like that.

I narrow my eyes at her back. She is breathing slowly and I wonder if she is crying, not that it should matter, but it’s making that hole she just drilled in my chest feel… awkward.

The pixy sits at the table behind me, and it should bother me that she’s in the perfect offensive position, but I push past that and focus on the steaks.

After the steaks are done, I grab two plates and put one steak on for her and then on the other for me. I put her plate in front of her and I take a seat on the opposite side, facing her.

She stands up and grabbed two forks and knives, giving me a pair without looking at me and then sits down.

For some reason my interest in the food has ebbed. I am curious if the pixy is actually going to eat it. And if she is, I want to see what her reaction is. In fact, I don’t think want is a strong enough word, I
have
to see how she likes what I cooked.

I wait as she cuts a piece of steak and slides it into her mouth. Then she stares at the wall and chews. After she swallows, she nods absently. After her first bite I saw her squirm in her chair and I realize that I have not stopped staring at her.

I almost ask her if she likes it, but I can’t get the words out of my mouth She narrows her eyes at me for a half a second and then picks up her plate and walks out with a swirl of cinnamon left in her wake. I hear her footsteps stomping up the stairs and I am left to eat the rest of my food alone.

* * *

I place my plate in the sink and notice my mug from earlier isn’t there. I open the cabinet and see the blue mug is right where it’s suppose to be.

The doorbell rings and shakes me from looking curiously at the blue mug. I don’t know why it’s bothering me to look at it, but it is. The door bell rings again and the pixy hasn’t come out of her room. The door bell starts to ring a third time and I swing the door open with a growl.

The man at my front door looks at me, then looks down to the cigarette in his hand. He flicks the cigarette into the grass before looking towards me. His hair is dirty blond and buzzed short. He has a tattoo on his neck sticking out of his light-grey t-shirt and both his arms are full sleeves of ink.

I breathed in slowly, and for the first time in a long time I found my voice, “I know what you are.”

“Don’t you mean who I am?” He was standing taller, not backing down from my glare.

He couldn’t intimidate me even though he has the same wild look in his eyes as I have. His wolf must be just as close as mine is to the surface. He looks ready to throw down and I am all for it. “Nope, I meant, I know what you are,” and then I looked at the cigarette butt on the lawn, “and
that
won’t cover your bloodlines from me.”

The man narrowed his blue eyes at me and then pursed his lips as if he was debating what to say. Then he looked behind me as if looking for something, “I’m here for the girl.”

No.

My wolf and I aren’t letting the pixy anywhere near this guy. Not because we are protecting her. We aren’t. But this guy is bad news.

The guy’s phone chimed and he pulled it out of his jeans pocket. On the other side I could hear my brother, Dar.

Where are you?

“Standing in front of your brother.”

And?

The guy was hiding something. Not just what he was, but he was up to something. Not like I needed another reason to not like him.

“I don’t smell blood so I am pretty sure the fairy is alive.”

At my snort the man glanced at me with an evil smirk.

Hand the phone to my brother and get back as soon as you can, you’re leaving for Alaska tomorrow morning.

The man snarled, “I’m what?”

I got a tip from a buddy of mine, he thinks he found your brother.

The man stilled, “Did you tell my father?”

No, I don’t plan to tell him anything until… everything is sorted.”

The man took in a deep breath, “What aren’t you telling me?”

There was a long pause and then I heard my brother say,
My buddy says he was seen with a Carver.

The man’s eyes began to turn. He looked away and dropped the phone heading back to the black SUV in the driveway.

I watched him drive away before I picked up the phone.

“Dar,” Was all I said because I didn’t trust myself to say anything else. What I had just heard had me reliving my worse nightmares and I felt for the person that was under the thumb of a Carver.

“This is your new phone. I will text you the number after we hang up. I need to be able to get a hold of you.”

I didn’t agree, but I didn’t say anything.

Dar didn’t say anything for several moments. I remained quiet because even though I hadn’t been around my brother for a long time, he still had a hard time with the hard topics. And whatever he was going to say, was going to probably piss me off. “Jeri wants to meet with you. I have held him off, giving you time to settle in, but he is getting very persistent.”

“I’m not pack. He’s not my alpha,” A dark rage was building inside me. I found out what that bastard did to my mother and I hated him for it. My claws were out and I could feel the changing start.

Theya’s door opened and shut loudly and I turned my half-changed wolf face at her. She was heading down the stairs, acting oblivious to me, holding a white plastic basket of clothes. She turned the corner, still ignoring me as she walked daintily to the laundry room.

I couldn’t help but notice she had changed. I could see her pink bra straps through the white tank top and I couldn’t see any underwear lines under a pair of very short shorts that made her legs look incredibly appetizing. I could almost imagine how soft her skin would be if I trailed my tongue over it.

I shook my head.
No. Stop it.

“I’ll tell him you are still adjusting,” Dar’s voice shook me from a variety of colorful images.

“There is nothing to adjust, this is who I am and I am
not
pack, yours or his. I am practically rogue.”

Silence.

“If you were rogue, that fairy would be dead right now, but she’s not and you are not rogue.”

“I’m not pack.”

“You are pack, you’re my brother.”

“I can’t be controlled by you or anyone else.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“I wasn’t trying to say anything Dar. I said you can’t control me.”

“You think I am trying to be your alpha?”

“You are acting like it.”

“No I’m not, you asshole. I’m acting like your brother.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I didn’t say anything.

“Keep the phone near you. I’ll call only when it’s important.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.” And then line went dead.

The pixy just exited the laundry room and I saw her walk with her head down towards the stairs. I watched her carefully, taking in every single curve. I think I saw her blush right before she bounded upstairs, giving me a very good memory of watching her pert ass swaying up the stairs.

The wolf in me growled and this time I knew it wasn’t to scare her away.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Born and raised in California, where she currently lives with her loving husband and son, B.L. Brooklyn enjoys reading and writing paranormal romance.

The Carver’s Magic is her first published novel.

When she is not reading or writing, she enjoys baking anything from homemade Rice Crispy Treats to Baked Alaska.

Website:
www.blbrooklyn.com

Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/pages/BL-Brooklyn/115423472125417

Twitter: Blbrooklyn1

Instagram: Blbrooklyn1