Seducing Zeb (Tarnished Saints Series) (30 page)

Once again she was very observant, although he
had
worked at an honest job for a few years of his life. But he’d seen where honest work had gotten him when he’d ended up in the dungeon. Nay, what he did now was the better of the choices, and also what his mother had taught him to do from childhood.

He took a sheep bladder filled with water from his side, and splashed it upon his face to rid himself of his disguise. The white powder in his beard and mustache washed out, leaving it as dark as the hair on his head. The powder in his eyebrows followed. He gave a sharp intake of breath at the coldness on his skin, then took a swig of the water and offered her some.

“Nay,” she said, turning her head, and when she tried to walk away, he realized her gown had caught on a branch.

“Well, Lady Abigail, I see your escape is foiled. You are caught not only by me but also by the guardians of nature.”

“I wasn’t trying to escape!” she exclaimed.

When she looked back up to him, he couldn’t help but notice her bea
uty. A few years younger than himself, she seemed to be mayhap one and twenty summers. Her hair was golden silk, spun from the faeries of the forest themselves. Her eyes blue – deep blue – and clear like that of a midsummer’s night sky. And her skin was alabaster and looked soft and supple.

“Well I am glad to hear you were not trying to escape,” he told her. “Because then you’ll be willing to come with me when I return you for a reward.”

Excerpt from
Familiar
:
(A warlock in denial and a cursed/shapeshifting woman.)

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Slade looked over to Susie’s house next door. He wondered what had happened to her after that awful night five years ago. He’d thought of her every day since he’d left. He’d thought of the things he wanted to say to her, but didn’t. 

He missed Susie, but knew wherever she was, she was better off as long as she wasn’t with him. He wondered if she still smelled like lilacs or if her hair was still the color of buttercups in long loose curls that wisped past her face in the breeze of a warm summer day.

He froze as his eyes settled on her front porch swing swaying in the breeze. It was almost like he was back in high school again, his memory stirring up feelings of Susie he tried so hard to forget. Her house was small and quaint. Fresh turquoise paint trimmed the shiny windows and a cute wooden fence encompassed the trimmed lawn. Flower boxes of petunias and potted geraniums lined the front of the porch.

It still looked the same as it had ten years ago. He took a deep breath and released it slowly. He then forced his eyes away and looked instead at the house he’d grown up in.
An old Victorian mansion with peeling paint and shutters flapping in the breeze. The lawn looked as if it hadn’t been mowed in a month of Sundays and the path leading to the front door was rocky and full of weeds. Nothing had changed in the time he’d been gone. There were probably still bats in the attic as well. But at least he knew no one would ever find a mouse in there. Not with all the cats that occupied the premises.

He pushed open the old iron gate, the squeak scaring a few dozen of his uncle’s pet cats that scattered through the high grass and disappeared under the porch or somewhere in Susie’s yard.

He felt his nose tingle and his eyes water. Those damned cats were still affecting him. He’d almost forgotten how miserable he’d been living with his uncle’s three dozen felines. He sneezed loudly, and a few straggling cats hurried on past him out onto the front walkway.

“Damn these cats,” he griped, pulling a tissue from his back pocket to wipe his nose.

“God bless you.”

He stopped in mid-motion, afraid to turn around. Afraid he knew only too well which angel belonged to the blessing being sent his way. He put the tissue back without turning to look. It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be her.

He turned then, half hoping it was only his imagination and not her. But as he expected, Susie stood there with a slight smile on her face and a bag of groceries balanced on one curvy hip. Matter of fact, she had a few curves he didn’t remember the last time he saw her.

“Susie,” he whispered and watched as her peacock-blue eyes lit up when she saw him. Just like he’d remembered. He willed his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. There was so much he wanted to say to her. So much he wanted to tell her. I’m sorry, for starters, but he knew the words would never be sufficient for what he was supposedly responsible for doing.

“So,” she said, the pregnant pause after the word a little unnerving. “You decided to move back to Caton?”

“Move back?” he was stunned that she’d think he’d come back here to live after what happened. He was even more stunned that she didn’t slap him or punch him or give him the kind of treatment he truly deserved. Instead, little miss Susie Homemaker stood with a bag of groceries balanced on her hip looking as if she were about to invite him in to dinner when she should be running from him instead.
Fearless, yet trusting. Just like his Susie.

“No. No, I’m only here on business,” he said, blinking his irritated eyes which the cats always triggered off in him.

“Business?” she asked with a raised brow. “Something to do with the new development plans of the mall they foolishly want to build here?”

“It’s about time Caton had a mall, Susie. This town is dying. If it doesn’t pull in revenue soon it’ll be nothing but a ghost town.”

She looked up at the setting sun just then and her face paled slightly, her eyes losing their sparkle. Her expression changed from one of comfort and nurturing to one of disturbance, anticipation and a little of something he couldn’t quite explain. Her eyes closed and she swayed. She loosened her grip on her grocery bag and Slade jumped forward, taking it from her hands before it spilled, yet being extra careful not to touch her.

“What’s the matter, Susie? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

The chill of the evening was more noticeable now as the sun started to set on the horizon. He knew she must have felt it too, because he could see the gooseflesh on her bare arms.

“Nothing. I - I’m fine. I’ve just got to go now.”

“No, not yet,” he said. “I have so much to say to you. So much to ask. Do you still live in the house  - why’d you come back? I thought you went to live in Europe with your parents. Isn’t that what Aunt Maeve told me?”

She reached for the bag, but Slade caught her by the wrist. She stopped and stared down at his hand, and he realized he might be gripping her too tightly. He quickly released her wrist, cursing himself for doing that. Hadn’t he learned his lesson last time?

Still, he told himself he wasn’t doing anything wrong. Oddly enough, he couldn’t help but notice that when he’d grabbed her, her skin felt cold and clammy. Not like the warm, soft skin he’d remembered. Also, her body felt tense and rigid. Then again, it was probably just him triggering off those reactions in her and he couldn’t say he blamed her at all.

“Susie, tell me what’s bothering you. Has Uncle Galen been pestering you again? I know he’s an odd sort of man who can get under one’s skin. He’s not knocking at your door in the middle of the night asking you to help him find a lost cat, is he?”

She looked scared. Her eyes met his for a brief second and then she glanced to the ground at his feet. “No. Galen doesn’t come to my house. Not anymore.”

She pulled the grocery bag from his hands, almost ripping the paper in the process.

“Let me walk you to your door,” he said. “It’s been a long time. Maybe we can have some dinner and -”

“No! No, not tonight.”

It was so unlike her. And such a rapid mood swing from the girl who’d just blessed him when he’d sneezed.