Chapter 4
That gorgeous, multicolored hair looked incredible across the skin of his thighs. It was a sight he never got tired of.
Cyn hummed an off-key tune as she fished his cock out of his underwear.
Thank fuck he’d worn boxers to bed instead of pajama pants. It was so much easier for her to release him into her hot, waiting mouth.
He hissed in a breath as she licked the underside of his cock with her tongue. He stroked the length of her back, not quite reaching her ass. It was so tempting too, covered in that short-as-fuck skirt she’d worn to the masquerade that night. “C’mon, sweetheart. Suck me.”
Cyn hummed and he shuddered. She was good at this, almost too good.
He watched, entranced, as her head began to bob up and down, sucking him in. His eyes nearly crossed when she stopped at the crown, the suction intensifying as she tried to get him to come.
He wouldn’t climax that easily. He palmed her breasts, thumbing the nipples to aching hardness. Her rhythm faltered as she began to stroke her clit, just as eager to orgasm as he was.
“Come up here.” If she was going to come, it was going to be on his cock.
She smirked up at him, her lips still wrapped around his dick, and sucked harder. This time, his eyes did cross. He was close, so damn close.
“Cyn.” He wrapped his hands in her hair and held on for dear life. “Gonna.”
She nodded, and that was it. Permission given, he gave his mate what she wanted. Pure bliss exploded from the tip of his cock, blinding him.
He blinked, and stared at the dark ceiling above him. Something wet and cool was dripping off his stomach.
“Shit. Fucking mate dreams.” Julian peeled the wet sheets from his body with a sigh. The mate dreams were getting more and more intense. If he didn’t find a way to get Cyn into his bed soon he’d go insane. He was tired of coming alone, tired of sleeping alone.
And he was damn tired of washing the sheets every night. He stripped the bed, tossing his dirty shorts in the pile. He used the edge of the sheet to clean himself off, grimacing at the sticky mess. His water bill was going to be through the roof at this rate. He put the dirty laundry in the washer and started it. He leaned against it for a moment and wished with all his heart that his mate were waiting for him in the other room.
Soon, Julian. Soon.
“You want a what now?” Cyn hid her grin. Damn, the girl had found some balls.
“I want a tattoo.” Heather Allen handed her a folded slip of paper. “This is what I want.”
Cyn unfolded the paper and stared at the gorgeous, yet sad, drawing. “Are you sure about this?”
Heather scowled, an expression Cyn was delighted to see. “I’m eighteen.
I can do this if I want.”
Cyn shook her head. “That’s not what I meant.” She shook the paper. “Are you sure about this? A tattoo is forever.”
Heather looked scared and relieved at the same time. She gulped, her green gaze bright and resolute. “I’m positive.”
Cyn sighed. “Black and white or color?”
“Yes!” Heather danced a little jig and Cyn laughed. If Eric could only see her now. She stopped and shot Cyn a happy little smile that lit her whole face. “Color, I think.”
“Just so you know, color costs more and will hurt more.” Heather tilted her head, the happy smile dimming. “You’ll be under the needle for longer.” Cyn shrugged. “It’s still your choice, but you need to understand what’s going to happen in the other room.”
Heather bit her lip. Cyn could practically see the wheels turning. “How much will it cost?”
Cyn named a price that was half what she would have charged anyone else. “But that’s the family discount, so don’t go bragging how cheap this was.”
Heather hugged her tight, surprising her. The girl was strong for such a little slip of a thing. She might weigh a hundred and ten pounds soaking
wet, but only if she was in one of those heavily padded parkas. “Definitely color.” She kissed Cyn’s cheek. “Thank you.”
Cyn hugged her back. “You’re welcome.” She led Heather toward the back room, where she would discuss what colors the girl wanted. Heather had handed her a black and white drawing, but it would look stunning in blues and greens on the girl’s pale skin. She took another look at the drawing. “You’re going to school for art, right?”
Heather shook her head, her shoulders hunching in that awful protective pose Cyn had noted in Frank’s. “I want to, but…”
“But?” Who was stomping on this poor kid’s dreams? Cyn would have to have a chat with them. Preferably with a baseball bat.
“The others think I should go to the community college and study bookkeeping.”
“Ew.” Cyn wrinkled her nose, glad when Heather giggled. “Seriously.
Bookkeeping?”
“I know, right?” Heather settled in the chair and bared her shoulder. “You should be the one to decide what you want to do, not anyone else.
You think I’d have this shop if I’d listened to the nay-sayers?” Cyn wiped Heather’s shoulder down with alcohol, cleansing the area for the tattoo. “If I’d listened to the people who thought I shouldn’t be a tattoo artist I’d probably be stuck in a hideous brown uniform asking people if they want fries with that.”
Heather sighed. “All I want to do is paint. Is that so wrong?” “Nope. Have you applied to art school?”
Heather shrugged. “It’s hard to argue with your family when half of them can eat you in two bites.”
Cyn rolled her stool until she was face to face with Heather. “I tell you what. You go and apply to art school. See if you get in. If it doesn’t work out, you come see me.”
Heather frowned. “Why?”
Cyn shrugged. “I could use an apprentice.” Tabby was ready to fly on her own; hell, Cyn was considering making her a partner. Cyn, Glory and Tabby meshed together beautifully, even when they bitched at each other.
They had become family, the three of them, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.
Besides, Heather reminded her of both Tabby and Glory. Both women had been hurt by life. Cyn made sure they had a safe place to land and a
willing ear to listen. She was more than willing to do the same for Heather.
Huge green eyes blinked at her, like a startled doe. “Really?”
“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t think you had talent.” From the small glimpse she’d seen of Heather’s work, the girl would make a killing as a tattoo artist. She’d just have to figure out how to rid her of her fear of large men, especially Alex. Maybe she could have Alex dance the Macarena in front of her? Not even Chuck Norris could look intimidating dancing to that.
Heather gripped Cyn’s hand fiercely. “I’d like to.”
Cyn grinned. “So would I.” She winked and stood, dragging the Fox up with her. “Lesson one: mixing ink.”
Heather followed Cyn into the back room, all eager questions and bright smiles. Cyn mentally patted herself on the back.
This was going to work out just fine.
Julian decided to pay a visit to his favorite Fox. Julian followed Chloe into her tiny living room, watching the weary way she moved through the space. The girl looked like she’d been beaten with a stick, which was a damn sight better than she’d looked the first time he saw her, broken, bleeding and dying in the middle of the road. The rejection by her mate was only adding to the toll on her. If Jim Woods didn’t come to his senses soon Julian was going to hunt the fucker down and force the shift on him. Maybe that would show him exactly what he was doing to the poor, injured Fox. “How are you feeling?”
She sighed and rolled her eyes. Her long red hair had been shorn short for surgery, and she missed it bitterly. “The usable.”
He hid his wince. The doctors weren’t certain whether or not her language problem would clear up, but her hand would never again have the dexterity necessary for surgery. Chloe’s scholarship, and her career, had flown out of her grasp. “Yeah.” He ran his fingers through her shorn hair and winced in sympathy. He’d cleared up as much of the damage as he could, saving her life and nearly losing his own, but the damage had been severe and extensive. Not even Tai would have been able to do more. Hell, Julian was surprised she’d survived, and he’d been the one to heal her.
One of them should have died that night. He still wasn’t certain how Tabby and Alex had helped him, feeding him just enough energy to keep his
heart from stopping. He had no intention of ever telling them how close he’d come to walking the Long Road.
“Are you up to this today?” She looked tired, dark circles under her pretty green eyes.
“Yeah. I have to be, don’t I?” She flopped down on the old, but clean, sofa. “I don’t want to wind up in your brain when you finally claim your bait.” She shuddered. “No offense, but I don’t want to see Cyn naked.”
“None taken.” He sat down next to her and held out his hand. “You remember what I taught you last time?
She nodded and, taking his hand, closed her eyes.
Julian watched her closely as she tried to block him from her mind. He threw image after image at her, wincing along with her when her head started to pound from effort. Within five minutes she was gasping like an out of shape marathon runner; within seven, she dropped his hand and moaned from the pain.
Julian spiraled down the healing path and took her pain from her, soothed the inflamed tissues until she sat back with a sigh of relief. He pulled his consciousness from her body. “You’re doing better.”
“How far did I get?” “Seven minutes.”
The relief on her face was monumental. She needed to control these funky new powers of hers, but the pressure was getting to her. Physical therapy, speech therapy, plus her sessions with Julian were wearing her out, and her savings were almost depleted. She might lose her apartment soon. “Jamie will be pleased.”
“Yeah, he will. You’re doing good, pumpkin.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. “I’m so tired, Jules.”
He wrapped his arm around her and rested his head against her poor, scarred scalp. “I know.” He mentally cursed Jim for ditching her once again. She might be twenty-two years old, but hers was a beautiful soul, one Jim would come to appreciate if only he’d allow himself.
The mental link between himself and Chloe was unusually strong. The side-effect of the spirit healing, their ability to see through each other’s eyes, was something he’d never anticipated. “Any unusual dreams?”
She shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah.” “Tell me.”
She sighed. “Two becomes one, one becomes three. Bear knows the way, but Fox holds the key.”
He blinked. “Oh shit.”
“Yeah. It was so freaking weird. One minute I’m in the middle of a mate dream where Jim is being all sweet to me. The next, there’s this huge freaking white fox staring at me, grinning. He spouts that riddle, drops a key at my feet and takes off running. What the hell, Jules?”
“Well. Um.” Wow. He’d never heard of a non-Kermode having that deep a connection with the spirit world. If Fox himself was speaking to her… “Could you do me a favor?”
“Hmm?” “Shift for me.”
Her brows rose. “The doc told me to wait for a bit, that I could damage the unhealed portions of my hull.”
He almost smiled. She’d meant skull. “I forgot about that. Okay, we wait to check my theory until after you get the okay from Jamie.” He tugged his braid and thought about what Fox had told her. “Two become one, one becomes three?”
“Nope. Two becomes one. With an s. I got the impression that was significant for some reason.”
She was probably right. The person who received the vision usually understood the nuances better than anyone except the person it was intended for. “Who do you think Fox was talking about?”
“I have no idea. Me, maybe? Jim, since I was dreaming about him?
Jamie, because he and that rat bastard physical therapist were torturing me a few hours before?” She shrugged. “You, because you’re a Bear? I’m not sure, but I have a bad feeling about it.”
A knock on the door interrupted them. “I’ll get it. You stay put.” Julian stood up and answered Chloe’s door. “Hey, Ryan.”
Ryan snarled at Julian. “Why do I smell my baby sister all over you?”
Julian rolled his eyes. “Welcome to Casa de Luv.” He stepped out of the way and let Ryan pass him, shutting the door behind the Grizzly. “Hey, pumpkin. Grumpy’s here.”
She giggled like a madwoman as her brother picked her up and blew raspberries against her neck. It was good to see her acting like a twenty-two year old girl instead of a wounded old woman. “Stop it, Ryan! Stop!” She
began beating him on the head and shoulders, hitting him as only a sibling could and live to tell about it.
Ryan settled her back on the sofa. “How was your PT?”
She grimaced. “The man could give lessons to Genghis Khan.” She scowled at Ryan as he settled in next to her. “And what is this I hear about Eric giving Cyn shit?”
Julian’s ears perked up. Was the problem with Eric worse than he’d originally thought?
“He can be a real douche where Heather is concerned.” Ryan shrugged. “He’ll get over it.”
“Explain, please.” Julian allowed some of his power to seep into his voice, forcing the other Bear to comply.
Ryan winced. “When Heather was ten years old a group of teenage Bears decided it would be fun to force her to change.”
Julian blinked. “But the change doesn’t hit until puberty.” Ryan just stared at him, a look of disgust and anger on his face. “Oh.”
“Yeah. The fucking pervs terrorized her. Then Bunny showed up and explained to them the error of their ways. The leader of the group refused to apologize to Heather, so Bunny nearly ripped his arm off.”
“Good for him.” Julian crossed his arms over his chest. “What happened next?”
“Heather had nightmares for years afterward, but instead of being terrified of her attackers she became terrified of Bunny. Apparently he was really fucking scary when he snapped some guy’s arm like a twig and demanded his surrender. Bunny began to think he needed to control his rage because of it and started on the whole yoga and tai chi kick.” Ryan shrugged. “I have to admit, he’s easier to get along with now, but Heather’s still afraid of him.”
“And Eric is just as overprotective as Bunny. If he thinks even the slightest thing will bother Heather he does his best to make it go away, but he tries to do it where Heather won’t see. And it’s not just Heather he’s protective of.” Chloe leaned her head back against the sofa. “You should see what he does when he comes over here. He’s worse than Grumpy.”
“Hey!” Ryan grabbed the blanket draped over the coffee table and tucked his baby sister in. “He’s been here?”
“Who hasn’t?” Chloe yawned. “Guys?”
She was fading fast, her energy nowhere near what it should be. He’d have to talk to Jamie about that, maybe have some of her sessions eased until she was a little stronger. “Yeah, I’m going. Ryan?”
“I’ll stay here, make her some dinner. She hasn’t been eating right.” “She is sitting right here. Dork. And pizza is a perfectly acceptable food
group.”
“Hey, Ryan?”
“Hmm?” Ryan was distracted, already heading for Chloe’s postage-stamp kitchen.
“Why would Eric see Cyn as a threat to Heather?”
Ryan shrugged. “Because of the way she looks and how Heather seems fascinated by her. He thinks anybody with ink and funny hair is dangerous. You should have seen the fit he had when Bunny got his tats.”
Julian grinned. “Isn’t your cousin eighteen now?” “Yeah, and?”
Chloe chuckled. “Take her to LA, moron. And take Bunny with you.” Ryan and Julian exchanged an evil grin.
“And take me too. I have a tattoo I want to get, and I want Cyn to do it.” “Chloe—”
“Nope. Not talking me out of it, big bro.”
“I was just going to ask what you’re going to get.”
Sure he was. Julian hung by the door and waited to hear Chloe’s answer. “A two-tailed kitsune.”
“What the hell is a kitsune?” Ryan was starting Chloe’s lunch and sounded distracted.
“It’s a Japanese fox spirit. It’s said that the more tails it has, the more wisdom it possesses. They could change shape into humans, and were said to have strong magical powers. The legends were probably born of Fox shifters mating with humans, since they could be spouses, lovers, advisors, even guardians.”
“Ah. I like that.” Ryan grinned. “Why only two tails, though?” “Because I’m starting my second life.”
The two men were silent as they absorbed the implications of what Chloe had said. She was right. Her old life was gone; it was time to start the new one. Damn, she was braver than he’d thought.
“You are wise beyond your years, young Padiwan.” Julian grinned when Chloe glared at him. “And on that note, I’m out of here. Take care,
pumpkin. Later, Grumpy.”
Ryan’s snarl was muted by the heavy wooden door.