by Michelle M Pillow & Mandy M Roth
Turner Downer
Michelle shifted a
bit, feeling awkward in her own kitchen. While that wasn’t anything
out of the ordinary, it was unusual for her to be following at the
heels of a sexy smartass. The man twisted a bit, clearly going out of
his way to flex as he went. He sliced up the steaks, discarding the
unsalvageable portions and tossing the rest into a large bowl.
“Got any lettuce in that
fridge of yours, blondie?” he asked, his voice running over here, sparking
things Michelle hated to admit the oaf could spark.
She narrowed her gaze on
him. “Let me look, Neanderthal man.”
Dmitri pushed his chin out
and made a primitive noise. “Me Tarzan, you good lookin’.”
“You jackass, me hungry.
Cook or get out of my kitchen.”
“Is there a problem?” Conner
asked, appearing in the doorway.
Michelle’s body lit at the
very sound of his voice. Conner seemed to fill it up, appearing so much
larger than life. She knew she should be happy to see him but the tiniest of
sinking feelings crept up on her, almost as if it were a warning. She
turned, her cheeks reddening and bit her lower lip. With all the
testosterone in the room, it was hard to concentrate. Dmitri cast Conner a
rather hard look before glancing back at her. Michelle forced a smile to her
face. She could do this. “No problem. Tarzan here is helping me out with
salvaging the steaks I may have forgotten about on the grill.”
“May have?” Dmitri arched a
brow.
She laughed, remembering the
sight of several of the steaks engulfed in flames. “Okay, did forget about.”
Conner moved towards her,
each step fluid, full of intent. What his intent was, she couldn’t be sure.
The gleam in his eyes told her that it was something wanton. The moment his
mouth captured hers, she knew how very right her instincts were.
His tongue found hers and
she was powerless to stop him. Michelle let him lead the kiss, let Conner
claim her mouth. The heavy weight of a stare pulled at her, tugging ever so
slightly. It was bothersome but not enough to jerk her out of the moment.
As Conner broke the kiss, a
slow smile spread over his face as he glanced towards Dmitri. “Thank you for
coming to Michelle’s aid. Though, she had but to ask and I would have
brought caterers in.”
“Oh, one of those,” Dmitri
bit out.
“One of those what?” Conner
asked, clearly annoyed with Dmitri.
“Those kind who make calls
and order other people to do what he thinks he too damn good to do himself.”
Rolling his eyes, Conner
sighed. “Oh, please. I have been condemned by worthy men, you, wolf, are
anything but.”
Wolf?
Licking his teeth in a
manner that was both suggestive and intimidating, Dmitri kept his grey-blue
gaze trained on Conner. If she didn’t know better, Michelle could have sworn
that Dmitri looked as though he were about to pounce on Conner, tear him
limb for limb and then kick back with a beer.
That would be so like him,
she thought, stopping herself and shaking her head. I don’t even know
him. How the hell would I know what he’s like?
Michelle stood silent,
unsure what was going on. The vibe in the kitchen screamed jealousy, but
why? Men. Hot men at that.
Ugh, did it really matter
who helped with food? So long as she was fed she didn’t really care. Rolling
her eyes, she eyed the phone. Ordering pizza was sounding better and better.
~*****~
Garmor stood, silently
observing the events unfolding before him. He’d been keeping a close eye on
Michelle and Mandy, livid that another elder, Tru, would dare to interfere.
The woman had been a thorn in his side since the dawn of time. The blasted
pixie was too emotional to be an elder. Too woman.
He smiled. Yes, Tru let her
emotions guide her better judgment. Though Garmor had no concrete proof, he
knew in his gut that she’d been the one to warn the Fay, Muir, of the elders
intentions of wiping Michelle and Mandy’s memories from them, stripping them
of that which had wavered off the path of destiny.
Tru had always had a
soft-spot for the man—something to do with being a blood relation, but he
didn’t know all the details, nor did he care to find them out. No. Now,
Garmor simply wanted the damn petite pixie bitch to be gone so she could no
longer meddle.
He slammed his hand through
the mystical viewing screen, causing the image of Michelle, the wolf and
Conner to dissolve instantly. “Pavel!”
Light shimmered into his
home as the shape of Pavel, elder to the catshifter tribes appeared before
him. The man arched a brow. “You rang?”
“Have you come up with
anything?” he asked, not bothering to go into details. Pavel was painfully
aware that Michelle and Mandy’s situation had become more than an obsession
to him.
Pavel nodded. “Yes, it would
appear that Tru has set herself up to appear as a neighbor to the women.”
“A what?” he asked, too
shocked to believe his own ears. “Are you telling me that Tru is planning on
living among humans?”
Pavel’s lips curled. “Yes
and from the way you say humans I see that your distaste of them rivals my
own. Stupid creatures. What a perfectly good waste.”
“Of air?” Garmor asked,
laughing.
“That too, but I was
referring to meat.” The elder to the catshifters let his incisors lenthen.
“Foolish laws forbidding our kind to prey upon them.”
“Yes, foolish indeed.”
~*****~
“Enjoying your evening?”
Muir asked, taking a sip from his beer as he lounged in the recliner.
Mandy stared up at the stars
in the night sky and smiled. “Yeah, I am. Michelle pulled it off.”
Muir nudged his plate, at
the foot of the outdoor lounge chair and winked. He’d not touched the food
Michelle had prepared. “Well, she came very close to pulling it off.”
Snorting, Mandy leaned over
and pushed her own plate beneath the chair she sat in as well. “She tried.
That’s all that mattered.”
Muir stiffened. “Do you
believe that, Mandy? Do you truly believe that when one’s intentions are
honorable that regardless the result, they are to be forgiven?”
Glancing over the edge of
her chair at Michelle’s ‘food,’ Mandy arched a dark brow. “Umm, it really
wasn’t that bad, Muir. Geesh, add ketchup to it next time.” As she stared
into his blue eyes, she saw a shadow pass through them as if he knew
something she didn’t. Something huge. Perhaps he did. “Muir? Are you okay?
You’re acting kind of odd…err…odder than normal.”
“Have you given anymore
thought to what I suggested?” he asked, ignoring her question.
“Mandy?”
She froze as a rich, creamy,
familiar voice moved over her. Turning, she glanced over the back of the
chair to find the tall, Italian hella hunk from the night before standing
there. His silky, long black hair hung in his face, slightly obscuring his
sapphire blue eyes from her view.
“Armando?” Muir asked,
sounding shocked.
Mandy’s eyes widened. “You
know him?”
Muir’s gaze leveled on her
as his lips drew in. “The better question is, do you?"
“I-I, umm, we met
yesterday,” she stammered out, unsure why she suddenly felt the need to hide
the fact she knew Armando. It wasn’t like she and Muir were an item. They
were just friends. And Armando hardly seemed like a serial killer or
anything.
No. The tall, toned man
looked as though he could be related to Muir. Both had long black hair, blue
eyes and bodies that while toned and muscular, were not over the top. Where
Muir was jeans and a T-shirt kind of guy, Armando seemed to be the opposite,
dressed in his black, flat front slacks and matching silk button up.
Armando looked from her to
Muir and shook his head. “Have we met?”
Suddenly, the air around her
seemed to literally buzz with tension. Mandy glanced at Muir, sensing it was
his power that had caused the disturbance. He kept his gaze trained on
Armando as he swung his long legs around and got to his feet. In an instant,
Muir was next to her, cupping her hand in his and bringing it to his lips.
“My sweet, Mandy. The hour
grows late. We should retire now.” He kissed his way down her arm, sending
tiny shivers of delight and confusion through her.
Stupefied, Mandy’s jaw
dropped as she stared at Muir. If she didn’t know better, she’d have said he
was behaving like a jealous lover. “Muir?”
“Mmm, yes,” he purred, as he
kissed her inner arm.
Yanking her hand back from
him, Mandy backed up fast—too fast. The chair flipped along with her and he
hit the patio with a thud. Another buzz filled the air, this one cooler than
Muir’s. It wrapped around her, soothing her as she righted her now twisted
dress.
Muir and Armando converged
on her. She stood, dusted herself off and began a slow but steady laughing
fit. They both just stared at her. Only she would manage to fall on her ass
in front of two of the sexiest men she’d ever seen. Shaking her head, she
looked up towards the sky. Someone up there was laughing their ass off at
her.
She looked over her shoulder
and spotted Michelle walking quickly across the yard. “I’m heading home,
hon. Call me if you need me.”
“You are leaving?” Muir
asked, reaching out to touch her.
Afraid she’d catch whatever
bug he’d picked up that was making him act weird, Mandy took a tiny step
back. Michelle rushed towards her. Their eyes locked and it was clear to see
that Michelle wanted to talk.
“Yoohoo, girls!” a sharp,
yet dainty voice called out, causing Mandy to huddle close to Michelle.
Michelle grabbed her hand.
“No. Please tell me you didn’t invite her to my barbeque.”
Mandy’s jaw dropped. “Oh,
like I’d invite Susie Sunshine.”
The tiny, waif of woman came
rushing towards them carrying a covered dish. Michelle perked up. Mandy
laughed. “Oh, she’s fine if she come bearing food, huh?”
“Of course, geesh, I’m a lot
of things, a turner downer of good food is not one of them.”
Mandy arched a brow. “Turner
downer?”
Michelle smiled, ignoring
her teasing. “Tru, I’m so glad you could make it. What did you bring?”
Mandy snorted. “Not obvious
at all.”
“Shut-up,” Michelle mouthed
out of the corner of her mouth.
Tru smiled and her gaze
flickered over Muir and then Armando. She stilled, only for a moment but
long enough for Mandy to get the sense something was wrong. Something was
going on. But what?
Pulling back the foil cover,
Tru beamed. “I brought brownies.”
Brownies? What was I
thinking about again?
