Blazing Bedtime Anthology Page 8

  Drawn into the story, as any true storyteller would be, she couldn’t help asking, “And Lucas?”

  “Their son. She left him behind.”

  She huffed audibly. “I saw this plotline on General Hospital.”

  Ignoring her, he added, “She knew she couldn’t possibly take him away from his own kind.”

  His own kind. Riiiight.

  Except…she’d seen. God, she’d seen. With her own eyes she’d seen the way Lucas had looked in the moonlight. He’d been a man…yet, not entirely human.

  He was not an animal, by any means, and was nothing like some stupid old black-and-white werewolf movie. But in that flash of moonlight, his body had seemed too broad, his back too curved, his dark hair too thick.

  And his teeth too long.

  She’d seen it.

  Swallowing, not even believing she was about to ask, she tried to sound nonchalant. “Is he a…a werewolf?”

  Hunter walked over and dropped the shoes onto her lap. “There’s no such thing. That was a story made up by superstitious villagers on our side of the divide. He’s just part wolf.”

  Just part wolf. Sure. Uh huh.

  You saw.

  He bent in front of her, taking one shoe and sliding it onto her foot, fastening it with a leather strap. Then he did the same with the other.

  Putting shoes on her feet. Just like Cinderella. Gag.

  “So your mother, what, dumped her kid, and left?”

  He didn’t reply. Noting the tormented expression on his handsome face, she wished she could curb her sometimes wicked tongue.

  “She couldn’t take him. And she couldn’t stay. So she went home, eventually met my father, had me. She kept her secret until her dying day, wracked with guilt and broken-hearted over the choice she’d made.”

  Was it possible? Could he really be telling the truth? The anguish on his face appeared too deep, too wrenching, to be faked. “And afterward? What did you do?”

  “I came here and saw the truth for myself, including meeting my half-brother.”

  “Are you two…friends?”

  He barked a humorless laugh. “I wouldn’t say that. But we do have common interests. He’s a lawman.”

  Lawman. Interesting word. Not cop, not detective, not police officer. Yet she sensed the description was still an actual title.

  “Ciara?” she asked. “Who was she?”

  “Lucas’s younger sister.” His jaw as hard as granite, he rose to his feet, quickly telling her what had happened. How men he worked with had been dealing and thieving over here, and how the teenage girl had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Just a random victim of an act of horrible violence.

  “And you thought he had killed the men who did it?”

  “Yes.”

  She shook her head and ran a hand over her brow. “You know I can’t believe any of this.”

  “I know. But it’s true. I hadn’t intended to tell you at all, only…”

  “Only?”

  “Only I’m not going to be able to take you across the border and never see you again,” he admitted. He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. Brushing his fingers across her cheekbone, he added, “Like I said, I might have to keep you.”

  “It’ll never work. You’re an insane person,” she said matter-of-factly.

  He laughed, loud and long. “How can someone who writes kids’ books have no imagination?”

  “I write the dark, realistic side of the kiddie stories, where Prince Charming is a cheating schmuck…”

  “He is.”

  She ignored him. “And where the helpless princesses get out of their own messes.”

  “They don’t. Sorry. The ones I’ve met are brainless twits.”

  She groaned, poking her index finger into his chest. “Stop it. You’re nuts. Either that or I’m in a coma in the hospital after my accident, and I’m going to hate waking up because I think I could fall in love with you, if only you were real and not a figment of my imagination. And, if only you weren’t abso-frigging-lutely insane.”

  “I’m not insane and you’re not in a coma. But just in case, here’s a little something else for you to dream about there in that hospital bed.” He thrust his hands into her hair and tugged her close, covering her mouth with his. His lips molded against hers, his tongue diving inside to taste her more fully.

  Scarlett whimpered, turned her head and welcomed him deeper. They shared hot breaths and heartbeats and he kissed her so long he claimed a permanent place for himself inside her. No other man could ever kiss her—ever make her feel like this—again.

  Then it ended. He drew his hands from her hair. “Believe me. Or don’t. But I’m not lying to you.”

  She stared into his eyes, seeing nothing there but honesty, integrity and an emotion she couldn’t quite define.

  Thoughts swirled in her brain, the memories of everything that had happened to her over the past twenty-four hours, starting with the appearance of that strange little man in the bookstore.

  The man…the electric feeling…the odd sign out on the highway. The road that narrowed into a swamp before disappearing into forest. The oddly colored sky, the flavor of the water, the damned tea. And Lucas.

  They jumbled and twisted until her head pounded.

  But in the end, it was just impossible. She couldn’t bring herself to believe it. She’d learned from a young age that fairy tales weren’t true and that believing in them only ever led to grief and heartbreak. Her mother had been waiting her entire life for her fantasy world to become a reality, waiting for Scarlett’s father to come back, to make everything right, to give her the happily-ever-after. And Scarlett had spent her childhood waiting, too.

  But she was no longer a child.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “If this is a dream, I hope I get to keep seeing you every night for the rest of my life.” Deep down, she knew it wasn’t a dream, that she was here, with him. That he had made beautiful love to her and had begun making her wonder if she really could find happiness with a wonderful man.

  If it wasn’t a dream, there was only one other thing it could be. “Honestly,” she said, swallowing hard, “I think you should get help. And I want you to stay away from me.”

  Without another word, she hurried to the door, opening it and rushing out into the night. She’d find her own way back to the road, or to the town, or to Granny’s. Her own way. She’d prove to herself, and to him, that the crazy story he’d spun back there had been just that: a story.

  Except…bad idea. It was confusing as hell in those woods in the daytime. By moonlight? She was sure to get lost.

  Great exit, genius. Now crawl back inside.

  She turned around, about to swallow her humiliation and get Hunter to lead her out of here. But before she could do it, a loud sound rent the night air. Like an earthquake, only richer, deeper, as if the ground itself was stretching wide open.

  Shocked, she looked again toward the woods. And saw something that simply couldn’t be happening.

  * * *

  HUNTER HEARD the sound and recognized it immediately. He’d been grabbing his pack to go after Scarlett anyway. Now… “Screw the pack.”

  He almost ran into her. She stood right outside, her back to the cottage, staring up toward the sky. Her eyes were wide, her mouth open in complete shock.

  He grabbed her hand. “Come on, we’ve gotta get out of here!”

  She didn’t budge, merely lifting her arm and pointing up.

  “I mean it, Scarlett, move your ass. It’s growing season.” He yanked her harder this time, dragging her into the woods. Her shock wore off, her adrenaline finally kicked in. Within seconds, she was matching him step for step as they ran through the woods, racing toward the border.

  “What was that?” she yelled without slowing her stride.

  “A way up…and a way down,” he snapped, not wanting to take the time to explain. Not until they were through.

  He glanced up at the sky. The moon was still high, but it was later than he’d thought. They’d wasted a lot of time. Damn, he should have just brought her back then sat her down and told her the truth.

  Finally spying a familiar copse of skeletal trees—trees that were out of place in this thriving forest—he squeezed her hand. “There,” he said, nodding toward the spot. “That’s the opening.”

  She didn’t hesitate, just charged forward, trusting him completely. When they reached the trees, they found themselves in a low-lying mist, which should have been unusual on such a clear night. But which confirmed their location. “A few more steps…”

  Then they were there. They pushed through, the misty air giving one instant of firm resistance before the two of them burst past it and out the other side.

  Into a bayou.

  Scarlett skidded to a stop, bending at the waist, dropping her hands onto her knees to suck in deep breaths. When she looked up at him, long tendrils of blond hair hung in her face. “What the hell was that?”

  “The border.” He heaved in a few breaths of his own. “You okay? It can sometimes be a little constricting.”

  She glanced back toward the group of trees they’d just come through. Over here, the mist became moss, long, gray, looping and thick. He preferred coming back to going in. Walking into that Spanish moss was like stepping inside a witch’s scraggly hair. Having met one or two of the old hags, he couldn’t say he liked the visualization.

  Scarlett slowly sank to the ground, ignoring the muck and mud, not that her skirt was in very good shape now, anyway. On her knees, she looked up at him, fear, surprise, excitement warring in her eyes. “I meant,” she said, her breaths slowly returning to normal, “what was that? Over there?”

  He thought about it, knowing what she was asking. He also knew she’d probably think he was crazy again, even though she’d seen it with her own eyes. Jesus, another few minutes and she might have seen a lot worse.

  “It’s growing season,” he explained. “And some moron thinking he could get rich planted a bean.”

  She thought about it, her brow scrunching in confusion. Then, as though a light bulb had lit up over her head, she got it.

  “Oh, my God.”

  He nodded.

  “Are there really…”

  “Yeah. Believe me, we would not have wanted to be stuck over there for a month if one of them comes down. Their feet are the size of Mack trucks and their breath smells like a sewage plant.”

  Scarlett was silent for a moment, unmoving, unblinking. Thinking it over. He was prepared for derision, for her to ignore her own senses and cling to the reality she’d always known.

  Instead, she shocked him. “Giants,” she said with a snort. She began to laugh…and laugh…and then howl until she had to curl up and clutch her stomach. And when her laughter was finally over, she wiped moisture from her eyes and said, “My agent’s never going to forgive me.”

  Hunter squatted down beside her. “Why?”

  She grinned up at him, looking so beautiful his heart twisted in his chest. “Because I think I just started to believe in fairy tales.”

  * * *

  And They Lived Happily Ever After…

  * * *

  WALKING hand-in-hand through the night, Scarlett and the huntsman traveled out of the woods, eventually finding their way back to the city by the great river. Their bodies were weary but their souls were light. They had entered the dark forest, had battled monsters created by their own fears and had emerged safe and sound.

  But forever changed.

  While little Scarlett had learned a few lessons about faith and believing, what she’d learned most of all was that nothing was impossible. Nothing.

  With that hopeful mantra as her guide, she allowed herself to open her eyes, her mind and her heart. With every day that passed, she fell deeper in love with her handsome huntsman. Together they explored other worlds, worlds of danger and excitement and fantasy. He sought out the wicked and she shared stories of dark magic and deep dreams.

  Then one day he fell to one knee and asked her to be his wife. Having long since given him her whole heart, she agreed.

  They wed on a summer day in a small village on the edge of a great sea, promising to love one another for the rest of their days.

  Oh, and that happily-ever-after? It included a lot of fabulous, mind-blowing sex.

  ONCE UPON A MATTRESS

  Leslie Kelly

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Epilogue

  PROLOGUE

  ONCE UPON A TIME, in a land not so far away as you might imagine, there lived a rather persnickety prince who refused to choose a bride. Though all the fairest princesses in the land were presented to him, the prince simply couldn’t find one to meet his most exacting standards. Nor could he ever fully explain why none of them were to his taste.

  So one day his mother, the powerful queen, took matters into her own hands. Determined to see her son married to a proper princess, she hired an expert tracker to go out into the world, find a suitable young lady and bring her back to the castle to be married to the prince immediately.

  But you know what they say…you should never send a wolf to watch over the flock.

  And the queen did, indeed, send a wolf.

  CHAPTER 1

  ON ANY other night when the moon waxed on its inexorable journey toward full, Lucas Wolf would be outside, roaming lush valleys, fierce and untamed like his ancestors. As he ran free beneath the midnight sky, the moon’s white-gold glow would bathe him in warmth and visceral pleasure. Every animal instinct clawed into his genetic code would fill with primal need to give himself over to his wildest impulses. And he’d do it, wholeheartedly.

  That was, on any other night.

  Tonight, Lucas was trapped inside a hot throne room, ready to howl with frustration. Instead of reveling in the warm glow of moonlight, he was pierced by the heated stare of a raging queen. And the only thing he might bathe in were the flecks of spit flying out of her mouth during her rant.

  “Unacceptable, that’s what it is. Simply unacceptable!”

  “Mother, please…”

  “Shut up, Ruprecht!” Queen Verona thrust a long, sharp-nailed finger toward her adult son. “If you’d been less picky, none of us would be in this situation.”

  This situation? As far as Lucas knew, the only one in a situation was Prince Ruprecht, who was known as the Charming—if not very bright.

  A single man himself, Lucas didn’t blame the prince for wanting to stay that way. Then again, lawmen like Lucas Wolf had the luxury of remaining single. At least until he found his one true mate—if such a person existed.

  Lucas liked women. But never had he seen one he simply couldn’t do without…and he’d been keeping his eyes open for her. Until he found her, he was reserving judgment about his clan’s one-perfect-mate-for-life concept.

  Princes like Ruprecht did not have the luxury of waiting. Not as far as his mother was concerned, anyway.

  “I’m not picky,” the prince said with a sigh that verged on petulant. “I just haven’t met the right person yet.” He draped himself across his mother’s throne.

  “You’ve rejected every princess in all of Elatyria.”

  “Not quite,” Ruprecht protested. “You were the one who sent that chit from the northlands away before I set eyes on her.”

  The queen’s scowl deepened, highlighting the lines gouged into her forehead. For someone once called “the fairest of them all”, she looked as appealing as a crone. “She was no princess.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Her hair was lank, her skin pocked and she smelled of cabbage.”

  “I like cabbage.” Amusement danced in the prince’s eyes as he egged his mother on. “You didn’t even put her to the test.”

  Princess tests? How bloody archaic.

  “I wish I had! Because even a false princess-bride would be better than none at all. How many times have I told you, Ruprecht?” The queen crossed the throne room and put her heavily beringed hands on either side of the prince’s face. “You must wed if we’re to keep our grip on Riverdale.”

  Ahh. Lucas began to understand. Riverdale, a tiny kingdom to the west, boasted some of the richest lands in all the world. Queen Verona and her husband had taken control of it many years ago, absorbing it into their kingdom when the last surviving member of Riverdale’s own royal family had died. Why, he wondered, would the queen be worrying about losing it now?

  The prince rolled his eyes. “Who cares about stupid old Riverdale?” Charming he might be, but he was also spoiled and self-indulgent, Lucas thought. Not to mention lacking in common sense if he could so easily discount such a vital part of his future kingdom.

  How like a petty prince to sneer at good land. For all commoners, fertile fields provided nourishment and security. But for those like Lucas, it was even more important. His own kind would be miserable trapped within thick castles built of stone. They much preferred simple sod houses. Some managed to run tiny wood-walled shops in the towns. But at heart, what the Wolf clan most longed for was land. Streams flush with trout, fields to cultivate when the moon was hiding, woods in which to hunt when it was full.

  Lucas Wolf might be a lawman. He might track down evil-doers and bring them to justice here in Elatyria or even in the other world that bordered his own—the one natives there called Earth. He might even be only one-quarter Wolf. But deep down, he understood why his father and brothers wanted a homestead of their own. He knew why they craved the chance to escape the towns and villages and live in peace in the country. In the wild.

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