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He stared into glittering green eyes, loving that her lips kept stretching just enough to show elongating canines. He’d never known a woman like Olivia before, and he should have been put off by her demands. Instead, his heart started pounding with sudden need, like he wanted to take her back to his bed, flip her over on her stomach, and once more take her in a position female shifters really liked. He’d use his teeth again on the back of her neck, holding her in place.
He tore his gaze away from her and took a few deep breaths.
“Your scent,” she said, “Tells me that for some reason my wolf-fangs are working you up.”
“You have no idea. But, listen, I’ve set up a couple of meetings for us and we don’t exactly have time right now for me to service you the way I’d like to. So, let me give you the run down.”
She settled back in her chair, her mug once more to her lips. “Go for it.”
“I’ve started orchestrating an attack on Margetta’s camp. I intend to burn the place down tonight, every last piece of wood and canvas until nothing’s left. My Vampire Guard, Shifter and Troll Brigades are all on alert.
“First, however, I need you to pay homage to the shifter community.”
She sat forward suddenly. “What?” she sounded panicked. “I can’t meet them, not the packs. Not yet.”
“You said you’ve been on the Internet, so you must already know that you’re in violation of Realm-shifter protocol.” A shifter had to present him or herself to a pack alpha within twenty-four hours of arrival in Swanicott. Olivia had been here for months.
“But …” She scowled and chewed on her lower lip.
He thought he understood. “You’re afraid one of these men will be your father.”
“How did you know?”
He shrugged. “It’s not hard to guess, and it must be weird for you. If I were in your shoes, I really wouldn’t want to meet the man who abandoned my mother. But after you meet Luther and he acknowledges and accepts you, we’ll be heading to the Fae Guild, but not for a few hours. So we may have some down-time between the lodge and the Guild.”
Her brow crinkled. “Why are we going to the Guild?”
“I know someone there who might have sufficient power to disrupt Margetta’s spell and expose the camp.”
“You mean the Ruby Fae, the woman called Regan?”
“You know about her as well?”
“What can I say? I have a lot of free time on my hands and surfing the web can be a pleasant way to spend the evening.”
~
In order to make herself presentable to an alpha, Olivia needed to change out of her plain, cotton shirt for something a little more formal. Zane still needed to shower, so she took her clothes and other essentials to one of the lower guest-houses. There simply wasn’t enough room in the compact bathroom to house both of them. Besides, a little time apart wouldn’t be a bad thing.
She kept her jeans, but donned a violet silk blouse and black leather vest. She rarely wore jewelry, no rings or bracelets, not even earrings. For one thing, they were the kinds of things that could get caught on farm equipment or lost in the dirt when planting or hoeing. For another, she just wasn’t into adornment.
She brushed out her hair, parting it in the middle. Whoever had provided her clothes had also packed up her make-up, such as it was.
Olivia put on a little mascara, shaped her brows with a light-colored pencil and added lip gloss. She could count on one hand the number of times in the past few years she’d made up her face. Her only social life involved the bar across the street, except when Zane was there. Even then, she’d usually wait until most of the bikers had left, then she’d steal in for a nightcap and have a gossip with the bar owner, Heather.
She’d learned a lot about Swanicott’s history, as well as Zane’s, from her numerous late-night trips to the bar. Heather had expressed the strong opinion more than once that Zane had been an idiot to marry a vegan-artist like Emily in the first place. “The woman didn’t even like killing flies.” Heather had rolled her eyes after revealing that bit of information.
Olivia had seen Zane eat his steak; Emily would have recoiled every time.
Basically, Zane’s wife had seemed like a delicate type, with a very tender soul. She couldn’t have been happy as a mastyr’s wife, at least not this mastyr.
When Olivia finally emerged, Zane was on the deck of his bedroom texting on his cell. He glanced at her and she waved, but that’s when things went a little nutty, because he slid his cell back into his pocket then suddenly leaped into the air and levitated down to her. “You look great.”
“You seem surprised.”
“You’re wearing a little make-up. I don’t know. Your blouse is dressy. Love the vest.”
She smiled. “I guess I clean up okay, then.”
