Zurlo, Michele - Torment [Daughters of Circe 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) (13 page)

Torrey studied him for a minute. “I’m sorry. I didn’t really mean to do that. I was angry at you for putting a charm on my car.”

Shade sighed. “I didn’t put a charm on your car.” He looked down at the engine. “But I can’t pretend to be upset that you won’t be driving this thing again. I’ll call for a tow truck, but I’m sending it to the junkyard.”

“You have no right,” she protested. “It isn’t your car.”

His blue eyes darkened to black. “You’ll fix it now with a charm or it’s gone forever. I won’t have you driving around in this thing, not if I can help it.”

“You want me trapped at your house in the woods in the middle of nowhere!” She flung the accusation and something else at him. It was too strong and too deeply rooted in her emotions to be a charm. Yet it wasn’t a spell, either. She had said no incantation, and she had offered nothing to the elements in thanks.

Shade’s body flew through the air to land on the sharp slope of rocky land dropping away from the road behind him. He put up a hand to stop the untutored use of her powers on him. He was outside the circle of light cast by both their cars. They were both lucky that stretch of road wasn’t on a cliff that dropped sheer from the narrow shoulder. She could have killed him.

But Torrey was both angry and not in control of herself. Grief and fear and fatigue made her unreasonable. If it were a normal day, she would have just yelled at him. But this wasn’t a normal day; it was the day her powers emerged. They were tired of being inaccessible and dormant.

Advancing down the rocky slope, she raised her hands and let her powers charge. He wanted to keep her, helpless, at his house, at his beck and call. She would sit around all day while he was gone, and she would have nothing to do but eat and worry about Riley. She couldn’t let that happen.

Just as she was about to strike, a growl issued from deep in Shade’s throat. His silvered eyes caught the scant light from the headlights, reflecting it back to her. He wasn’t aroused; he was angry. “Don’t start something, little witch, that you cannot hope to finish. I have more power than you realize. You can’t beat me yet.”

His words were not a deterrent. She struck, and missed. In less than the blink of an eye, Shade changed from a tall, darkly handsome man, to his wolf form. He leapt, avoiding her strike and knocking her to the ground.

She landed hard, the breath knocked clear out of her. Gasping, she looked up into the face of a large black wolf. His paws were on her shoulders, pinning her to the ground, but his claws were sheathed.

He was large, but that was to be expected. That massive human body indicated a massive wolf. He might have changed shape, but his mass had the same volume.

Torrey froze, fighting for calm. Everything she knew about wolves came from Frank. The stories he told her had all ended horribly for the witch. Even if the stories were untrue, they were rooted deep in her psyche. And Shade had definitely killed witches before. Wolves didn’t happen by magic honestly. They stole it from the witches they killed. She was terrified.

He lowered his muzzle to stare straight into her eyes. Torrey recognized those silver eyes. They had gazed at her with passion only an hour earlier. Now they held a distinct warning.

She didn’t know how long they stayed like that before he backed away to sit next to her. His tail swished as she sat up slowly.

She didn’t want to make any sudden moves that might cause him to attack. More than anything else, she wanted to get into her car and drive in the opposite direction. He might be able to run fast in his current form, but he couldn’t do fifty, and her car could. Just barely, but it would work.

As if he sensed her intention to run, he put a paw on her leg. She wasn’t going anywhere. Her car might be able to outpace him, but her legs had no chance. The cotton skirt under his paw had been through a lot, and it showed worse for the wear. She stopped breathing.

His muzzle came closer, and his mouth was open. She didn’t expect the tongue that darted out to lick her face from chin to temple. Relief flowed through her. When he leaned in to lick her again, she shoved his face away and got to her feet.

“You shouldn’t have eaten the onions.” She didn’t know if he understood what she was saying, but his ears were at attention. They twitched at her pronouncement.

He returned to where his clothes lay and pawed through them for something. Torrey joined him. There was no moon to help her see his clothes, but she didn’t need her sense of sight to know they were shredded. The sudden change had ripped his jeans and his shirt at the seams.

Something heavy fell, landing on her feet. From the jingling noise they made, she knew they were keys. Shade snagged them and dropped them into her outstretched hand. Standing on four legs, his head came to her shoulder. He was tall, even for a wolf. Nudging her hip, he herded her up the embankment toward his waiting truck.

Torrey looked from his truck to her car to him. The absence of the moon meant there was no way he could change back until morning. The sun was fire, and he needed that energy to shift his shape for the second time. She had no idea how she knew that.

“This is awfully convenient for you, isn’t it?” She would have to leave her car there overnight. She couldn’t leave her things that he had so arrogantly packed alone all night in the back of his truck. Reluctantly, she fished her backpack from her still-smoking Tempo and locked the car.

She put a note on the windshield, assuring the county sheriff she had every intention of returning for the vehicle in the morning. Hopefully, they wouldn’t tow it.

She opened the passenger door for Shade. He leapt into the seat with one graceful motion. For a second, the image of him running at top speed flashed through her head. He would look magnificent.

Finding Shade’s house was frustratingly difficult. As they disappeared into the mountains, the road became rougher, dwindling until it was nothing more than a suggestion. In the winter, it was the type of road that would be closed until Mother Nature decided to open it again.

Shade, for his part, tried his best to direct her. She learned that his paw on her leg meant she needed to slow down. He nudged her with his muzzle, and then he looked in the direction he wanted her to turn. Several times, she stopped the truck completely because he indicated an opening that didn’t look like a road.

At last, he curled up in the seat next to her and fell asleep. Because he was so damn long, his head, shoulders, and one leg ended up across her lap. She hoped the road dead-ended at his house because she had no clue where they were or where they were going. And she was tired. The clock on the dashboard showed it was well past midnight.

At last the trees opened and the road improved. It ended at a stunningly beautiful log cabin. The sweep of headlights couldn’t do it justice, but what she saw was incredible. On her lap, Shade’s eyes blinked open. He yawned and stretched before sitting up. When she opened the door, he leapt over her to land lightly on the grass.

He sniffed the ground and disappeared into the blackness of the night.

Torrey aimed the truck at the house and turned on the headlights. Wolves might have wonderful night vision, but she wasn’t a wolf and the porch light wasn’t lit.

His key ring featured several keys, but none of them fit the front door. Frustrated and tired, she tried the handle. Unlocked, it turned easily.

She hit the light switch next to the door. It had been her intention to go immediately back to the truck and kill the headlights, but the sight of his house stopped her cold.

Someone had broken in and ransacked the place. Her jaw dropped. Soren. It had to be. This was her fault. She brought this upon him by insisting he help find Riley. He said helping a witch was considered treason by his people. Was this a warning?

She stood frozen with her hand pressed to her chest. Shade came in after her. His cold nose pressed into the small of her back, urging her toward the stairs. She had no choice but to comply.

He seemed to not notice the mess.

At the bottom of the steps, she turned to him. “I have to turn off the truck lights.” On autopilot, she did exactly that. Calling the police was out of the question. The best she could do would be to clean up the mess. She hoped nothing had been stolen.

This time, she closed the front door behind her and locked it tight. Shade waited at the foot of the stairs. Torrey stopped in the middle of the mess and looked around. The house was beautiful. Cathedral ceilings stretched along the entire front of the house, making the kitchen and living rooms one massive room.

The stairs at the back of the living room were an incredible example of talented workmanship. All the wood in the house featured the same excellence in skill and attention to detail.

The things that littered every surface in the room were unbroken and clean. Upon closer inspection, it appeared they had been purposely placed there.

She didn’t have much of a chance to frown. An impatient head pushed her toward the stairs. She looked down at him and took his face in her hands. His fur was as soft and silky as his hair. “I’ll help you clean it in the morning. I’m so sorry this happened, Shade. I didn’t mean for anyone to break into your house.”

He guided her toward a room at the end of the upstairs hall. It was large and clean. A bed with a brass frame was positioned against the back wall. A dresser and a bureau stood opposite the bed. On the other side of the room, under a bank of windows that would have a breathtaking view during the day, two upholstered chairs, a bench, and a coffee table invited a quiet evening sipping hot chocolate and reading romance novels.

Paintings in frames decorated the cream-colored walls. The entire room was tasteful and inviting.

Torrey ignored Shade’s attempts to push her into the room. “This isn’t your bedroom.” It was obviously a guest room.

He might not have been able to talk, but his glare was definitely working. He wanted her to go to sleep.

She was tired, and she was dirty. Wordlessly, Torrey disappeared into the bathroom. The shower called to her. Shade waited outside the door for her to finish, standing guard in his more powerful form.

As the water sluiced down her body, Torrey thought about what she might say to him in the morning. She needed to apologize for attacking him in the first place. She had no idea what came over her, or why she thought it was all right to treat him that way.

If he hadn’t put a charm on her car, which was entirely possible, then he had been honest with her when he expressed his lack of regret for her automotive troubles. He had encouraged her, albeit aggressively and rudely, to try to fix it using her powers. Could she have fixed it with a charm? Wouldn’t that mean it would run on her energy, draining her of strength she needed?

Shade was curled up on her bed when she returned to the room with only a towel covering her naked body. The clothes she discarded were too dirty to wear. She wasn’t entirely sure they could be saved.

Opening and closing drawers in the room produced nothing. Each drawer was empty. Finally, she disappeared into the other bedroom she glimpsed when he herded her up the stairs.

The room was in as much disarray as the rest of the house. It seemed only her room had escaped that kind of treatment. She found his laundry neatly stacked on top of his dresser. The organization of the mess gave her pause.

Why would someone leave clothes in neatly folded piles if they were so intent on disrespecting someone’s home and property? Why was nothing broken or stolen?

Leaving those questions for later, she snagged a black shirt from a stack and pulled it over her head. It fell to her knees.

She climbed in bed next to his still form. Curled up like he was, Shade managed to take up three-quarters of the bed, and it was only a queen size. She turned off the lamp and settled in for the night. He moved so his long body was pressed against hers. His heat seeped through the comforter, warming her pleasantly.

Despite her unease, she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.