The Moon, the Madness, and the Magic (4 page)

“Will you be ready to confront your nature?”

“Yes, I’m fine, but I still have so many questions. Thanks for coming.”

“Uh, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Celia looked almost uncomfortable if Celeste could bring herself to imagine her self-absorbed aunt being capable of that emotion.

“What’s wrong, Celia?”

“Well, I really can’t stay, but I did want to at least stop by to offer my support.”

“Oh, I appreciate the thought, but what about my questions? Aren’t you going to teach me about sex?” Celeste heard the shrill edge to her question.

With a dismissive wave, Celia said, “No need. Your succubus knows everything you need to know. Follow her lead.”

Celeste’s succubus did a little happy dance inside her that made her nose twitch and her nipples tingle. Along with the magic, another scent suddenly registered off the Richter scale, affecting her like no other. Not just any old male pheromones, this was a familiar scent. His.

A wellspring of heat rose up in her core and spread through her body like molten lava. Her insides clenched.

“Mmm, not bad.” Celia picked up on the scent, too. She turned her head first right then left, seeking the source, sniffing the air until her nose twitched.

Celeste pointed toward the tennis courts. “I checked them out at the lounge last night. Their scent was intriguing, but not this overwhelming.”

Celia touched the clear crystal stone on her bracelet, and Celeste noticed how the swirling colors filled it. “The full moon nears,” Celia said. “The scent seems more erotic today. It will be hard to resist.”

It was more erotic, Celeste admitted, nearly impossible to resist. The pheromones riding the air currents overpowered her will. The scent of two males was in the air—one delicious scent combined with the even more potent, more irresistible scent Celeste couldn’t quite identify as any mere alpha male wolf. She inhaled deeply.

Ah, the scent of my alpha male.

“Aren’t you the lucky one? Two to choose from?”

The alpha one’s scent was stronger, dominant, sexually arousing, and more enticing than any Celeste had ever experienced. The other a familiar, insistent scent, full of passion and promise. Chills ran up her spine, and she shivered. “I’m not sure if I’d call this luck.”

“Your destiny is here and now. Time to get on with it, girl.” Celia smoothed her flowered summer dress and smiled benignly at her.

The hair on Celeste’s body prickled. Liquid heat pooled low, making her damp between her thighs. She forced herself to clench her fists on the railing, to hold back and hide her physical response to her mate.

“I hate this lack of control over my body. I dread it worse than facing him and telling him who and what he is, and for your information, that’s really been bothering me, too. Celia, please tell me about sex so at least I know how to control my sexual reactions.”

“Psht! There’d be no fun in that. No one who fully enjoys sex maintains control. Control takes all the excitement and spontaneity out of the act. It’s the succubus in you looking for control. Succubae demand sexual control because their victims have so little of their own. You’ll adjust. Go with your gut instincts. Go with your wolf. She’ll know how to enjoy herself.”

“Are you sure? Won’t I need to know how to handle my nature with this man?”

She sniffed the air, her eyes sparkled with mischief, and she grinned at Celeste. “Oh, my dear, he will be totally capable of handling you. Trust in the prophecy, darling. The Council knows your bond mate will save us from destruction.”

“But Celia—”

She kissed Celeste on the cheek. “Well, I’m off. You know how to reach me if you need me.” Celia shifted into mist and drifted toward the mountain before Celeste could say another word.

The magnificent white unicorn reappeared at the edge of the trees, turned, and bowed to her before disappearing into the forest. “Right, but will you answer?” she shouted after the shifting image.

“Oh, do try to handle this yourself, Celeste. I’m off to Scotland to save two druid lairds from the unseelie fae princess who enslaved them five hundred years ago. Poor dears. You might have a bit more compassion.”

“Compassion?”

“I think the naughty fae was related somehow to your great-grandfather on your mother’s side. I feel a familial responsibility to undo her damage. The poor lairds have been
Pri-ya
so long only an experienced succubus can help free them from the sexual depravity of the dark fae. So, I volunteered.”

“What about me?”

“After I free them from her spell, I’ll check back with you. I do hope they’ll recover without any adverse side effects.”

The specific side effects to which Celia referred would mean the men giving up one sexual master for another. Celia would have to wean them off fae sex, and that might mean she’d be occupied for some time, considering there were two of them to salvage from the dark fae’s charms.

Chapter 4

Tennis

There was that scent again. Stronger this time. Celeste took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and exhaled. The scent in the air made her insides quake, and her hand trembled as she brushed a stray curl off her face. The heavy pheromones in the air, the ones influencing her approaching heat, filled her, almost overwhelming her good sense. She should have anticipated her reaction, but their powerful impact was greater than she’d expected.

Only a week until Beltane, and the full moon closest to the midpoint between the spring equinox and the summer solstice approached. Things would only become more intense.

The buds on the trees warned her. Time grew short, and her new responsibilities weighed more heavily on her each day. Cupping a hand above her brows, she squinted into the bright sun and looked over the landscape to the forest beyond.
Nothing.
No sinister vibrations emanating from the forest beings—yet.

So much was at stake. So many lives depended on her fulfilling her purpose. This Beltane, her first since reaching her majority, meant she could finally take a mate if she chose. Only in her case, the choice may already have been made for her, according to the Council and the prophecy.

The heavy scent of the male pheromones rode the air currents, winding around Celeste, stimulating her glamour and drawing out her inner radiance. Her secret came dangerously close to the surface, close to being exposed. With a deep breath, she tapped down her glamour.

She should have stayed and dealt with him last night. Instead, she’d run like a coward, fleeing the club even when he’d gone looking for her later. She’d known he was the one when he’d walked down the hall and her body had responded so strongly to his scent. She’d been overwhelmed with need. Nothing had ever affected her like he had. Her breasts swelled, her nipples tingled, and her womb wept.

For her, the club would have been too public a place for their first meeting, especially if her control had weakened. Her inner nature might have seduced him on the dance floor and sent the desire spiraling outward to the others in the club. The power of her arousal could have turned the dance floor into an orgy, and the succubus within her was unconcerned about consequences. Her inner essence didn’t care that this would be her first time.

Get over it.
First time or not, what difference would it make? It’s not like this was going to be a love-match. Why was she romanticizing this inevitable event?

Pleasurable male laughter rumbled up like distant thunder from the tennis courts below. With a sigh of resignation, she walked to the corner of her veranda for a better view and discretely watched the friendly competition while she thoughtfully considered her approach.

Where should she start? Their banter filtered through her thoughts. She wondered how the horrible tragedy of fate had brought them all together as her gaze drank in the one called Rourke—his rugged good looks, his broad shoulders, and the way his muscles rippled beneath his skin. Everything about him fascinated her. What would it be like to touch all that power?

A warm sensation passed through her body. Her insides quivered with need.

Oh, well, even if her mind hadn’t settled on her mission, apparently her body had made a decision last night. In the light of day, she could see more details to confirm how right it was. He was taller than the other, which, to her calculations, would make the one called Rourke about six and a half feet tall or more. His hair looked every bit as dark and long, if not longer. Both men were well tanned or had naturally dark-toned skin. She understood why they could pass for twins. From this distance, the only difference she could see in their coloring was limited to a few premature gray streaks running through Rourke’s temple hair. Distinguished. The sign of a born leader.

As similar as they looked, the Council and Celeste knew they weren’t twins or even brothers. She believed they weren’t aware of that fact yet. If there was a blood link between them at all, no one knew of it. Those fae who remained in the realm around these mountains knew most of the true facts regarding their beginnings. They’d been born within days of each other but not to the same mother. Nor had they been sired by the same father. Yet these two men’s fates had merged thirty years ago on Beltane eve, and so it seemed now with Celeste’s as well.

Explaining to Rourke Grayland who and what he was became her first task, and it was the one she dreaded the most. If the men didn’t know about their past or the responsibilities that loomed before them, how did one go about explaining it? How would she tell a man who had no idea the Lore existed that several days after his birth, his mother had shifted into her animal form in order to hunt and, as a result, was accidently shot by a hunter?

Did she start, “Oh, nice to meet you, Rourke. I’ve heard so much about you. By the way, did you know your mother was a wolf?”

Riiiiight. What seemed like the direct approach would have any sensible man laughing in her face, especially a man who’d spent his life living in the city, insulated against magic and his own kind.

Her hair rose around her like curling rivulets of pale yellow smoke on a breeze. Something would come to her.

* * * *

Rourke slammed the ball over the net and jogged to his towel. “Game, set, match,” he announced. The sexual tension seemed to lessen in the presence of the pines. This place drew him in and soothed him. He desperately needed a peaceful place.

“You sure that wasn’t out?” Dane always pushed the limits.

“In by a foot.”

“Out by…” The banter died on Dane’s lips.

“Was not,” Rourke started to argue at Dane’s hedge, but he didn’t miss the exact moment when something distracted his brother’s attention from their argument. He immediately stopped arguing to look over at him. The familiar cocky smile, the one Dane thought looked sexy and he reserved for only the hottest women, quirked a corner of his mouth. Rourke considered teasing him, goading him into another argument, until he followed his brother’s gaze in the direction of his interest.

The scene slowed down in his mind, playing out in slow motion. Air blew out of his lungs like he’d been gut-punched, and Rourke’s insides twisted into knots at the vision drawing Dane’s undaunted attention. No wonder his brother looked thunder-struck.
The blonde from last night.

The sight of the woman standing on the veranda was enough to suck rational thought from any man’s brain. Not only was she perhaps the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, but sexuality exuded from her like heat from a bonfire.

As desirable as a
succubus.

The unfamiliar word floated on a thought and swirled through his mind as he stared at her. He’d read about them in novels—elusive beings capable of seducing men in their sleep, fucking them mindless, and draining them of their semen and, with it, their life force. If he believed in legends, the impact she had on him fit the bill, and conversely, he found himself thinking he’d gladly succumb and die happy.

Her long, flaxen hair was almost as pale as her ivory skin. In the slight mountain breeze, the strands looked like a living, breathing life form, curling and waving, rolling and whipping like ribbons of long, blonde vines. He imagined all that hair stroking him, caressing him. The sight of her sent blood pumping to his cock. His balls grew heavy, and his erection thickened, hardening as he looked into the creature’s pale azure eyes. Her gaze met his, locking, forming an instant connection with him, cutting through his defenses, and gutting him with need.

The sun flickered through the rustling leaves.
Relief.
He was relieved it was daylight. This wasn’t a nightmare. No, she was more like a dream, a wet dream. With the powerful light glowing behind her eyes, he thought she might just be one woman he’d be afraid to fall asleep beside, afraid he’d lose himself in her presence.

The thought was absurd. He shook himself free of the mental images her being there conjured, and stifling a laugh, he forced himself to look away. He was being ridiculous.

Dane’s low whistle escaped, drawing her attention to him. “Wow!”

Rourke heard the one word Dane managed to utter before he turned and snapped at him. “Back off,” Rourke ordered beneath his breath. His insides clenched, and his mind filled with thoughts of possession. Emotions roiled within him.