Imitating Fiction

Chapter 8. Ryeka

I read what I’d spent the morning writing, laughing at some of my euphemisms. It would be so much easier if I could just write ‘cl***ris’ instead of ‘pearl of pleasure.’ As it is, I’m sure I’m going to have to think of something for er***ion. I once used ‘pleasure staff,’ which made me wince, but Karen loved it. My biggest face palm right now is changing Jarek’s name back to Alarick. Seriously, no man has ever gotten into my thoughts quite so quickly as he has, and I’m really not sure I like the feeling. I let out another self-deprecating sigh as I catch yet another time I’ve written his name by mistake.

I can only imagine what would happen if I or my editor misses one of the mistaken names in here. Especially given the concern that he may be a lunatic fan that wants to wear my head like a hat. Not that any of my werewolves have done that, but they do tend to be fairly intense lovers. I wonder what Jarek would be like. Obviously, his kisses have been quite demanding, but could he be gentle, too?

The idea of Jarek as a gentle lover gives me an uncomfortable wet feeling and I realize my n***les have come to attention. I should not be thinking about him like this.

I roll my shoulders, stiff from sitting in one place for too long, and turn my chair towards the door where my new roommate sits staring at me. “Don’t look at me like that! Wait until you see him, he’s hot as f**k!” The cat blinks at me, clearly unimpressed. “Ok, I’ll get dressed and go get you some food. Any requests?” I think I’ve been living alone too long.

When I get back from my epic trip to the grocery store, during which I swear I helped a couple of short guys with hairy feet chuck a ring into a volcano, I’m surprised to see Jarek’s truck in my driveway. He’s leaning against it, the setting sun illuminating him so he’s cast in shadow. I don’t know how I know, but when he turns to look at me, he smiles.

I get out of my car, wondering if he’s going to greet me with one of his electrifying kisses. Crazed fan or not, I can’t deny I want to see him naked. The scene has been playing out in my head all day. He stays a respectful distance away, however, his hands shoved in his pockets like he can’t quite trust himself around me. Although, I guess that’s probably wishful thinking on my part.

“Your cows aren’t in my yard today,” I grin at him.

“Maybe my cows wish they were in your yard,” he grins back. I’m not sure if he’s actually talking about cows. I turn away to hide the blush I’m pretty sure is staining my cheeks and open the back of my car to start hauling my purchases out. “Can I give you a hand?”

I’d prefer a tongue, or maybe fingers, or maybe your… yeah, I’m definitely blushing now. Get it together, Rye! “Sure, thanks,” I try clearing my throat so it doesn’t sound like I just got off a shift answering phones for a s*x line. “What brings you all the way out here?” Yeah, my voice is permanently gravelly around him.

“I… uh… I wanted to… thank you for your help yesterday.” I get the feeling that wasn’t what he wanted to say.

I’m leaning into the back of my car, trying to gather as many bags as I can- one trip or die trying. Straightening up, I start to take a step back and run straight into a brick wall. Jarek’s hands grip my hips to steady me and a tingle starts somewhere deep inside me and starts to spread. It takes every ounce of self-control to not lean into him and purr. I know I should step away, but with his fingers pressing into me, his warmth on my back, and his breath across the nape of my neck I’m having a very difficult time functioning.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to mow you down.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

We’re both talking at once, but neither of us has made a move to separate our bodies. His fingers tighten on me, just a little, and goosebumps break out along my arms before he releases his grip and steps away. I sway a little, feeling a rush of lust and disappointment, wanting more. I shake my head, and try to smile at him as he leans in to my car to pick up the last bags.

“Did you buy the whole store?” His voice rumbles inside me, and I wonder if he really is as interested in this as I am. One step at a time, Rye. Get to know the man a little first. Geez, he’s got a great ass.

“I didn’t realize how far I’d have to drive to get to a store. I’d prefer not to have to do that too often,” I try to explain, but it sounds lame, like I’m admitting I didn’t really think this whole move thing out before acting on impulse.

He smiles, “Yeah, it’s a bit of a trek, but you’ll get used to it. You moved here from Los Angeles, right?”

My eyes narrow at him. “Santa Monica, but close enough. How did you know?”

He shrugs and tries to avoid my eyes. “I was… curious about you.”

He doesn’t really seem like the sort to be a cyberstalker, but what do I know? I watch him closely. “And?”

He avoids my eyes and kicks at an imaginary rock. “You’re… interesting.”

“Interesting,” I taste the word in my mouth, trying to figure out if it’s a compliment coming from him or not.

“Anyway, could we go inside before my fingers fall off?”

I study him, trying to decide how much I can trust him. I don’t know him, after all, and I’m not really in the habit of bringing strange men into my home. Still, there’s something about him that seems to be calling to me. I think about the one-sided conversation I had with my cat earlier, and decide to go with my instinct. “Of course, come on.” I lead him to my front door where I juggle the bags and my keys, trying to unlock my door without dropping everything.

Jarek chuckles behind me and I shoot him a dirty look. “I just don’t know anyone who locks their doors. It’s so… city,” he grins.

I roll my eyes as I push inside. After I drop my bags in the kitchen, I turn around and realize he’s still hovering just inside the door. “What is that?” he asks in a quiet voice looking towards my couch.

I follow his gaze. “That’s a cat,” I answer dryly. “Haven’t you ever seen one before?”

“Not like that,” he mutters. “I’m guessing you haven’t had her long?”

“How do you know it’s a her?” I ask, even though my gut is telling me he’s correct. I’ve already decided to call her Nott after the Celtic Goddess of Night personified.

“Because only females look at me like that,” he says, not taking his eyes off the cat.

I raise a questioning eyebrow. “Like what?”

“Like she’s ready to remove my testicles if I step out of line,” he sounds genuinely concerned.

I look over at Nott, and she does seem to be staring at him rather intensely. “Do I look at you like that?”

He shakes his head, but his eyes stay fixed on Nott. “No, you look like there’s something much more pleasant you’d rather do with my testicles.” It feels like my eyebrows have reached my hairline, and it takes a moment for him to realize what he’s just said. His eyes go wide and shift to me. “Uh… sh*t… that’s not what I… I didn’t mean to…”

“Huh. You know, you’re actually pretty adorable when you’re flustered. Want a drink?” I smile

He just looks at me like he can’t believe his ears. Finally, he nods and comes into the kitchen where he puts the bags down.

“I’m going to put the cold stuff away. Help yourself to whatever you’d like,” I tell him, gesturing to my little makeshift bar at the end of the counter.

He breathes a sigh of relief and moves to pour two glasses of bourbon while I put away frozen precooked food and meat. “I read your book,” he says it casually, but I stiffen at his words.

“And?”

“It was good. Different, but good.”

“Is that why you’re here?” I’m kicking myself mentally for inviting him in. Did I not learn from the San Diego convention?

“No,” he hands me one of the glasses and sips his own thoughtfully. “I wanted to talk to you about the other night.”

I sip my drink slowly, trying to calm my nerves. “Other night? What other night?”

“Friday. By the river.”

I shift uncomfortably. How does he know about my dream? “I’m not sure what you mean.”

He sighs. “Friday night, sometime after one o’clock, you were sitting by the side of the river, your feet in the water, scribbling something in your notebook.”

“How did you…” I don’t finish the question. There’s a chill running down my spine and I back slowly away from him until I’m pressed up against the other side of the kitchen. “It was a dream,” I whisper.

He shakes his head sadly. “No, Ryeka, it wasn’t a dream. Please don’t be afraid.”

A little late for that! I swallow the lump in my throat, not sure if I want to cry, laugh, or vomit. Maybe all three. “Get out,” I whisper.

He looks as though I’ve slapped him. “Ryeka, please, I need to talk to you about this.”

“Get. Out,” I repeat through clenched teeth.

“Ok,” he says sadly. He throws back the last of his drink, sets the empty glass down, and fixes me with a serious look. “Don’t panic, ok?”

Before I can register what he’s said, he holds one of his arms up. His eyes darken as though they’ve dilated beyond what should be possible. Thick, dark fur begins to cover his arm below his elbow and across his hand. It’s a darker brown than the hair on his head, almost black. Suddenly, the silence between us is broken by what sounds like bones breaking, the sick squelching pop and crunch making me sick to my stomach. My eyes go wide as I watch his nails thicken and lengthen into sharp, dark claws. His finger pads spread together while his fingers come together and I realize that I’m looking at a giant wolf’s paw where his hand used to be.

“That night,” he sounds as though he’s struggling to speak. His voice has taken on a deeper resonance, as though more than one person is speaking. “I thought maybe you recognized me.”

“I did,” I say, breathless. “But this is impossible. This can’t be real. Werewolves aren’t real,” I insist half-heartedly.

“If you don’t mind me stripping down completely, I can prove to you I do exist,” his grin is feral, dangerous, exciting.

I’m an i***t. I grin back. I should be terrified. If he is what he says he is, what my own eyes say he is, I should be running for the hills screaming.

And I’m grinning at him.

Not just that, I’m still picturing him naked. What is wrong with me?

“I’m not sure that will be necessary, but I am going to need another drink,” I finally manage to say.

The sound of breaking bones once again fills my ears and I feel a little queasy. He holds up his hand, showing me he’s back to his human self and unharmed. I take a deep trembling breath and hand him my glass.

“You got a lot right in your book,” he says, his voice back to normal. “You got some wrong, too, but enough right that you were on a lot of radars for a while.”

“There’s more of you?”

His eyes seem to twinkle as he hands me my glass, refilled. “Oh yes, Ryeka. There are quite a few you made nervous sharing our secrets. Possibly the only thing that saved you from serious inquisition was all our research showed you’re just a human with a lucky guess. It’s a good thing your true nature wasn’t obvious.”

I stop mid-gulp and raise a curious eyebrow at him. “My true nature?”

He nods emphatically. “It’s pointless trying to deny it. I’ve it seen for myself.”

My brows furrow together in confusion. “Talk to me like I’m stupid. What am I supposedly denying?”

His head c***s to the side. “You’re a witch.”

The ground shifts underneath me and I have to close my eyes to find my balance. “Ok,” I say it slowly trying to decide the best way to approach this latest development. “Yes, I’m a witch. So is my mother, and her mother before her, and her mother before her. But this isn’t like a Hollywood movie. I don’t have powers. I can’t,” I gesture to his arm, “do anything. It’s a belief. A way of living in harmony with nature.”

His mouth hangs open in shock. “You really have no idea, do you?”

I’m starting to get a headache. “No idea about what?”

He sets his glass down again and starts to approach me. I can’t help it, I flinch. He looks a little sad at that reaction, but after a slight hesitation, he steps towards me again and gently takes the glass from my hand, setting it aside. He’s so close I can see the flecks of blue in his mesmerizing eyes, smell his earthy scent, and feel the warmth radiating off him. My heart rate starts to speed up, and breathing becomes difficult. His smile makes my mind turn to mush as his hands gently grip my shoulders. I swallow hard, anticipating his lips on mine. Instead, he gently turns me and leads me into the hallway where I’ve hung a mirror. Standing in front of the mirror with him pressed against my back, I gaze into the reflection of his eyes.

“See me,” he whispers.

“I see you,” I whisper back not sure what he’s asking from me.

“See more. Look harder. Look… deeper.”

I try to concentrate, but it’s not easy to ignore his closeness. Finally, I begin to pick out colors swirling around us. It’s similar to what I’ve been told are auras, I’ve seen similar before, but never this clear. Where our auras should meet and swirl together, however, there’s nothing. It’s as though we share an aura, and I’ve never even heard of that before.

“Concentrate,” he whispers. “Look at your eyes.”

I shift my gaze from the swirling mist encompassing our bodies to my eyes and gasp. They’re glowing a bright, almost neon green. It shocks me out of my focus and everything seems normal again as I blink at my reflection.

There are too many questions filling my head right now, but the one I most want to have answered is nagging at me. “Why did it look like we share an aura?”

“Because you’re my mate,” he says simply, his gaze fixed on mine in the reflection. “It’s why we react to each other so strongly.”

I blink at him a few times. “Do you want to stay for dinner?”

He starts to laugh as he wraps his arms around my waist. “It’s a start,” he manages to choke out between guffaws.