Davies, Corinne - Wrapped in Fur [3xtasy Lake 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (2 page)

Chapter Two

Brand Denninger sifted through the mountain of papers on his desk. With so much still to do, there wasn’t a chance he would make it to dinner now. He glanced up at the woman facing him across his large mahogany desk.

“Kara, please cancel my dinner date with…” He paused, forgetting for a moment whom exactly he was seeing this evening.

“Tiffany, sir?” She finished writing her notes and glanced up, amusement apparent in the twist of her smile.

“Yes. I knew that. Tell her…” He went back to comparing columns of number to the information on his computer. “…well, just tell her something.”

“One thoughtful, yet believable, lie coming up. Would you like me to order you some dinner?”

Brand glanced at the time on his computer. “I would appreciate that, thank you. You don’t need to stay tonight. Go home and enjoy your family.”

His assistant arched an eyebrow at his presumption. “I was planning on it.” She closed the laptop she had been working on and walked across the room. Lifting a small clock from the bookstand on the wall, she twisted the silver key in the back of it. “I’m setting it to go off when your dinner is due to arrive. You still need to eat.”

He smiled at her thoughtfulness. “How could I survive without you?”

“You couldn’t. That is why you’re going to give me a raise.”

Brand grinned slightly. “All right, deal, but don’t order me anything from those health nuts you like so much. I think my front teeth are growing.”

“You do realize one day you will have to find someone else to watch over you.” She gathered up her notes and laptop. “And you’re not going to find her under that mountain of paperwork.”

He met her comment with a low, uncommitted grunt, having heard this particular suggestion many times before. It wasn’t the first time she’d made a comment like that despite the numerous dates he went on. He tried not to think about how dismal his personal life had become. He hadn’t shared a woman in over a decade and believed he never would again. The intense kind of friendship he needed to share didn’t happen all that often, and he’d destroyed his one chance. Sharing a woman with anyone other than Colwyn Marshall didn’t hold any appeal to him at all.

The incessant ringing of an alarm brought him out of the trancelike state he often obtained falling into numbers and columns and tallies. Most of the information on his desk had been input and balanced, leaving him with a feeling of accomplishment. He could finish this…just a few more minutes, an hour at the most. He would feel better when he finished. Without lifting his gaze from the computer, he reached over to press the off button. His fingers brushed a piece of paper that had been stuck to the front of the alarm.

Kara’s elegant script graced the bright yellow sticky note.
Eat before you go back to work!

It was frightening how well she knew his habits. Too bad she wasn’t single. Having a wife this in tune with him would be convenient. A knock at the door announced the arrival of his dinner. After dealing with the pizza delivery guy, he sat down, slice in hand, only to have his phone ring. He glared at the offensive sound, debating for a moment whether to ignore it or not. When it continued to ring, it was obviously a family member. That also meant it would continue to ring unless he answered it.

“What the hell are you doing there this time of night? Did I teach you nothing, young man?”

Brand smiled. Auntie Aniela. Her raspy voice sounded fragile, a complete opposite to the feisty woman he knew her to be. He had spent many summers working in her antique shop, helping with the books, which was what had started his love with numbers and columns. His eccentric aunt balanced her time with him by filling his young head with fantastic stories of different objects that just happened to be in her store at the time. Once he reached his teen years, he spent more time causing trouble with the locals than in her shop.

“I’m working, Auntie. We’re coming up on tax season and I have to be caught up.”

“Oh, pishposh. You are never behind or disorganized. You forget with whom you’re talking, mister. You need to come to the store. The most amazing thing happened today. You have to see her to believe it.”

“I’m in Vancouver, remember. I can’t simply pop in for a visit for a day. I’ll still try to make it over the holidays at some point but I can’t leave right now. I’m sorry, just too busy. I’ll be working through the holidays at this rate.” He could hear her horrified gasp and could effortlessly envision the look on her face. Grinning, he took a bite of his fast-cooling pizza.

“You will do no such thing. I expect to see you on Saturday, Brand Anthony Denninger, or else. Bring something nice. I have a visitor for the holidays. She will be here for dinner.”

He choked on the lump of pizza in his mouth, the line disconnecting before he could respond. Not that it would do him any good. Once his aunt had decided something, the gods themselves couldn’t change her mind. He shouldn’t have baited her, but he couldn’t resist. No doubt, she had rooked one of her friends to come for dinner, or worse, one of her friend’s granddaughters. Being pestered over his single status during dinner was the quickest way to ruin his appetite. He didn’t relish the idea of eating half a bottle of Tums instead of turkey. There was always the possibility that she had invited one of the strays from the shelter that she liked to volunteer at. That must be it.

After living in Ecstasy Lake for so long, his aunt trusted everyone and never thought that anything bad could happen to her. Having a home in a sanctuary for shape-shifters had its advantages, but bad things could still happen. The thought of someone taking advantage of her infuriated him. He couldn’t allow it to happen. Ever. Pizza forgotten, he focused on the computer screen, determined to finish even if he had to work through the night.

What if I’m too late, again?
He left Ecstasy because of a terrible mistake he made. Memories of Brittany’s horrified expression flooded his thoughts. If only he approached her differently, perhaps she wouldn’t have died.

He picked up his cell and flicked his thumb over the screen, calling up his contacts. No matter how many phones he went through there was one number he always input into his contacts first. The only one he never called. His hand trembled and his heart pounded a rapid beat against his ribs as he stared at the cell.
His number might be different now. It’s been ten years. He’ll probably tell me to fuck off the minute he realizes who it is.

* * * *

Aniela hung up the phone with a huff. “Can you believe that boy?” She lifted a full tray from the kitchen counter. “For someone that intelligent, it amazes me how slow he can be.”

Holly jumped, took the heavy tray from the older woman, and carried it to the table for her. Aniela had taught her so much about this century. She didn’t want her to feel like a servant, too. “You love him?”

“As if he were my own son. Which is why I think you should meet him.” She filled a teacup and passed it to her. “I think now would be a good time to tell you about him. Holly, was it?”

Holly nodded slightly and then took a sip of tea. Wonderful stuff, really. For all of the human race’s disasters, they couldn’t be all bad if they had managed to keep this tradition going.

“I would like to hear more about him. All things considered, and I mean no disrespect but, I do not think that you understand completely what you are doing.”

“Oh, hush. It worked, didn’t it? If you weren’t meant for someone close to me, then how did I manage to free you? Since I don’t have any children, there is only one that is for you, and it is my nephew. I practically raised the headstrong boy. His parents couldn’t handle him. They’re good people, just introverted and a bit selfish. They had no idea what they were getting into when they decided to start a family, and didn’t have another child after Brand.”

Holly sighed and listened to the old woman tell her about her beloved nephew. Despite her misgivings about the old woman’s theories, it was a relief finally to be free from the crystal after all this time. She stretched out her arms, and her gossamer wings fluttered restlessly behind her.

She was so furious when she cursed Lord Spencer Marshall she failed to consider the ramifications to herself. He’d loved that Christian winter celebration, and she’d wanted to ruin it for him. His precious celebration would mark his own demise unless he properly acknowledged her love and returned it. Now, she had until Christmas to make Lord Spencer Marshall fall in love with her. A ridiculous clause she was completely at fault for creating. She knew centuries stood between her and his death, and she had no idea how to find one of his blood relatives. Not that she was certain she could substitute a family member at this point. She would be better off enjoying the freedom this wonderful woman gave her and try not to think of the consequences.

“You know you will need to hide those.” Aniela pointed at her wings. The old woman’s words startled her. “Most don’t believe the old stories anymore, and your kind is pretty much considered a child’s tale.”

That tidbit of information amazed her, and her diaphanous wings fluttered in agitation. They considered anything
faery
a child’s tale? Most of the fey she knew were better kept as far away from young humans as possible. The innocence of youth was too tempting to her kind. Of course, it felt as though there weren’t too many of her kind left anymore. The fey energy that used to flow on the breeze had all but vanished. An ache for her own kind swelled in her chest. She had hoped that the loneliness would have abated by now. She may not have been conscious of the passing of time, but she still felt as lonely as the day she created her shell.

“Do you really want to tell him that I am a faery? What makes you think that he will believe you?”

“Oh, he won’t. I guarantee it.” Aniela smiled. “That is up to you, sweets. Honesty is the best thing. Trust me.”

What the old woman didn’t understand was the limited time Holly would spend in this world. Despite what the human stories told, her kind might be very long-lived but weren’t immortal. The magic needed to evade death was beyond her talents. Not that it would have made any difference. Deep down she knew exactly how much time she had left, and the sad thing was it wouldn’t be enough.

The spell she cast on that fateful day centuries ago had ended up nothing like she had expected. She had wanted the young lord to have his heart locked in ice so he would never feel love. Yes, looking back she may have overreacted a tad. Now, her own existence was locked in human traditions.

Aniela had misinterpreted that bit of information on the parchment, and Holly didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth. Had she waited another week, then Holly would have had a full year to make her nephew fall in love with her. To accomplish such a goal in a mere seven days would be impossible. The best that she could do was to try to find a little happiness or contentment before her own life ended.

Aniela smiled gently at her and struggled only slightly as she pushed herself out of the plush chair. “Come, I’ll show you to your room. Don’t look so downcast, sweetie. Magic is in the air. This time of year is all about hope and gifts. It will work out. You’ll see.”

Holly followed her through the house and up a narrow staircase. Scores of pictures of happy faces in a variety of frames dotted the walls. She wondered briefly which smile would belong to Brand. She paused at one picture, her breath catching in her throat. Surrounded by a stained wooden frame was a photo of a young man, caught midlaugh. Long, blond curls framed his face and flowed at least halfway down his back. His lean, well-formed body twisted in an awkward pose, as if he was falling.

“Found him already, did you? His friends had just pushed him in the pool.” Aniela’s withered finger tapped the glass as she gazed fondly at the photo. “Brand was terrible for pulling pranks, and that day they got him back. He looks different now. Cut his hair off and stopped pulling pranks. He grew old so fast.”

“Why?”

“A tragic accident, I’m afraid. He had been out at a Christmas party with a bunch of the local teenagers. They were at one of the boys’ houses and had been drinking far too much. Brand got in an argument with the girl he was dating and when he fell asleep, she decided to drive herself home. Poor thing lost control of her car and crashed. The doctors said she died instantly, not that it mattered.”

As the story unfolded, Holly looked closely at the youth in the picture. Such happiness and carefree bliss. If it wasn’t for the clothes he would look like a fey prince. Golden and strong with a confirmed mischievous streak, his good nature was apparent because he was laughing as his friends retaliated. Did he have any clue what would happen to him? Any feelings of dread or foreboding?

“Poor boy. He’s never forgiven himself, always thinking that it was his fault. As if he could have seen the future. After that, he developed a terribly serious streak. Don’t get me wrong I’m incredibly proud of his accomplishments, but with all his single-minded work ethic there’s no balance. He needs some fun in his life. Some whimsy. What could be better than a faery and a bit of Christmas magic, right?” The older woman cackled gleefully and gripped the handrail as she headed up the last of the stairs.

Holly took a last look at the picture and pursed her lips to stop a sigh. She felt like the weight of the universe just settled on her shoulders. This wonderful woman thought she could help this man. It was out of her hands now. That little bit of Christmas magic the old woman had so much faith in is what would eventually end her life.