Constant Cravings
Authors: Tracey H. Kitts
Constant Cravings
Luna Randal is a palm reader who needs help finding the creature who
ate
her best friend. She doesn’t believe in fairies, but fae shaman Liam Corrigan, with his lavender eyes and long white hair, is unlike anyone she’s ever met. When he sprinkles a potion in her coffee that “lifts the veil”, her eyes are opened to a whole new magical world—
touchy-feely nymphs, sexy werewolves, adorable leather-clad elves and a hot-as-hell horned demigod. A world where the touch of a fae lover is as addictive as any drug, where they make love anywhere and everywhere and still their craving for each other never ceases.
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
Constant Cravings
ISBN 9781419938955
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Constant Cravings Copyright © 2012 Tracey H. Kitts Edited by Raelene Gorlinsky
Cover design by Dar Albert
Photography: Olly, Katalinks, Fotomak/Shutterstock.com; Remy Muser/netfalls Electronic book publication April 2012
The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
The publisher and author(s) acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks and word marks mentioned in this book.
The publisher does not have any control over, and does not assume any responsibility for, author or third-party Web sites or their content.
CONSTANT CRAVINGS
Tracey H. Kitts
Constant Cravings
Chapter One
How could I be hurting this much and have no one notice? I suppose that’s because
their
best friend wasn’t eaten tonight and mine was.
The rain was coming down so hard I thought the sky must be grieving. That was my first thought probably because of what I’d seen. There was an odd crowd in the café where I’d taken shelter. Then again, there is an odd crowd in
this
café most every night.
“The Spot” is in the midst of six different nightclubs, one of the few places to sober up or get a bite to eat.
Just the thought of food turned my stomach. A waitress walked by with a cheeseburger and I almost gagged. I would have been sick, but I’d already thrown up twice. Everyone seemed so indifferent.
I checked my watch for about the fifteenth time. He should be here soon.
“Here you go, sweetie.”
I jumped as the waitress set the coffee in front of me and she gave me a strange look.
“Sorry. Thank you.”
“Is there anything else I can get you?”
Her blue eyes seemed so sincere that I almost started to cry again. How strange that someone who didn’t even know me appeared genuinely concerned. Or maybe I was desperate for someone to talk to. Emotion made my throat feel tight and I shook my head in reply.
I was trying to hold it together. At least as much as possible under the circumstances. The first thing I’d done when I came in out of the storm was go to the bathroom. Actually, that was my whole reason for coming here. I needed shelter and a place to be sick. My appearance was a little frightening—smeared mascara, short, dark hair plastered to the sides of my face and neck. Not to mention my clothes were wet and had mud smeared in a few places. I looked like hell.
While I was trying to correct some of the damage I noticed a plain white business card on a shelf underneath the mirror. There was a name written in a swirling purple font.
Liam Corrigan, Fae Shaman.
Underneath was the number I couldn’t seem to resist dialing.
With my mind lost in thought and my eyes focused on the coffee, I didn’t immediately see him. But I felt him. My heart jumped and suddenly I couldn’t catch my breath. I pushed the coffee away and put a hand over my fluttering heart.
He was gorgeous and so obviously different from everyone else in the room. For one thing, he was really tall and thin, though his broad shoulders gave the impression 5
Tracey H. Kitts
of strength. White hair hung to the middle of his back and cascaded around his face and shoulders in perfectly straight layers. His pale skin didn’t make him look weak or sickly like it might on anyone else. It looked perfect, like alabaster, and had a healthy glow despite the poor lighting. The rain must have stopped while I was staring into my coffee, because he didn’t look wet and he wasn’t carrying an umbrella.
He didn’t waste time scanning the crowd, but turned and headed straight for me. I was still having trouble breathing when he stopped beside me. A heady mixture of musk and cologne greeted me when his long, black coat moved slightly. I couldn’t help but notice the purple lining.
“You must be Luna.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact. Pretty impressive considering I hadn’t given him a physical description. Then again, I did kind of stand out. I was the only obviously distraught woman in the crowd.
After what I’d just been through, I lacked the ability to filter my reaction.
“Yes, and apparently my last name is Tic.” What the fuck was I thinking, calling someone who claims to be a “Fae Shaman”?
“Mind if I sit down?” His voice was rich and mellow. Despite my misgivings, he was already putting me at ease.
“Look, I’m not sure why I called you.”
“You told me,” he said, smiling. “You found my card in the bathroom.” I laughed softly and when I looked up, finally met his gaze. Oh my God. His eyes were
lavender
! He had to be wearing contacts. No one has lavender eyes.
“I don’t even believe in fairies, much less fae shamen. I’ve had a terrible night and I was…” I paused and decided to tell him the truth. After he came down here in the storm, it was the least I could do. “I was desperate for someone to reach out to. I needed very much to believe that someone could help me. So I turned to the first option I found. I’m sorry for wasting your time. Love your contacts though.” I was trying to make light of the situation with my last comment, but my eyes still filled with tears. When he reached over and took my hand, I started to sob openly. This man who knew nothing about me and whom I’d just insulted sat beside me and wrapped me in his arms. This embrace was something he willingly gave, not the kind people give out of obligation when someone is upset.
He held me as if he meant it and I accepted his comfort, stifling my cries against his chest.
Finally he said, “I think now is not the time to discuss belief or disbelief. We’ll get to that later. Why don’t you tell me what happened before you ended up here?” It was then I thought about how much noise I must have made and looked around at the other tables. It was as if we were invisible. The only one who’d noticed me at all was the waitress and now she was nowhere to be seen. Even though Liam was a stranger, I felt at ease when he was close to me. And I really needed to be held. I settled 6
Constant Cravings
back in his arms with a sense of finality. Here was the part where he was about to tell me I was crazy and leave.
“We made plans tonight to go to this new club, Rave.”
“I’ve heard of it.”
“Anyway, Rachel, that’s my friend.” I had to pause and stop the tears. Just the mention of her name made my throat close up. “She wanted to go there and it sounded like fun. Everything was fine until this man approached us. He offered us a shot of Pretty in Pink. It’s this new designer drug that—”
“I’ve heard of it too,” he interrupted. “Diluted vampire blood mixed with pixie dust, supposed to be better than X.”
I was confused by his mention of pixie dust. What the hell was that? I thought Pretty in Pink was vampire blood mixed with ecstasy.
“Yeah. Anyway, I don’t do drugs, but Rachel wanted some. It was strange. I mean, I’d never known her to do drugs either. She bought some and then wanted to leave the club. She said she needed some fresh air. You know the place between Rave and that other club? It’s got lanterns hanging everywhere.” The name was eluding me. “They have outdoor concerts there.”
“The Courtyard.”
“That’s the place. We went there and found a bench to ourselves. She took the little pink vial and gulped it all at once. I was afraid. I watched to see what her reaction would be. The rain was light at first and I was about to suggest we leave. Then she started to laugh and dance around. She seemed okay. So I sat and kept an eye on her.
That’s when it happened.”
“What?” he prompted.
I gave him another good look. Did he really want to hear this? Was he going to leave or call the loony bin and tell them to take me away?
“Something came out of the bushes and ate her.” I waited patiently for his shock or outrage at me for wasting his time on something so ridiculous. But there was none of that.
To my surprise he replied calmly, “No wonder you’re so shaken.” I pulled back from him and touched the cup to find my coffee still warm. “You mean you actually believe me?”
He put his hand underneath my chin and turned my face up toward his, studying me closely.
“You’re telling the truth. What ate your friend?” I shook my head and took a sip of coffee, letting the warm, rich flavor soothe me.
“I don’t know. If I had to guess…it looked like a werewolf. I saw lots of hair, but it was dark where we were, not many lights.”
7
Tracey H. Kitts
Liam leaned forward and rested his chin against his hand. “Hmm. The full moon isn’t for another week. But it’s possible.”
“Even if it
was
a werewolf, I shouldn’t have called you. Like I said, I don’t believe in fairies. Besides, what could a fairy do against a werewolf?” His laughter was just as warm and rich as the coffee. “Your vote of confidence is overwhelming. How is it that you believe in werewolves and vampires, but not in fairies?”
I shrugged. “Everyone knows vampires and werewolves are real. It’s been proven.
Both conditions are caused by blood-borne diseases.”
“Ah,” he said, flicking a piece of white hair over his shoulder, “a fan of logic. Tell me, Luna, what do you do for a living?”
Shit. I was hoping he wouldn’t ask that. I can’t tell you how many times a day someone rolls their eyes at me when they hear what I do.
“I’m a palm reader.”
He didn’t laugh, but raised an eyebrow at my answer. “How is that different?”
“Because what I see and feel when I read for someone is real.”
“How did you get into that line of work?”
“My grandmother did it. Her gift was passed down to me.”
“Well, my mother was a fairy and my father was a Native American Shaman. So, Fae Shaman just felt right.”
I burst out laughing. “You’ve got to be joking. No one with Native American genetics has skin as pale as yours.”
“The fae genes are dominant.”
“I should call the police and report what happened. Maybe they can get some werewolf hunters on it.”
“Let me show you something first.” Liam reached inside his coat and pulled out a small bottle of what looked like multicolored glitter. “Nothing happens by coincidence.
There’s no such thing as an accident. My card was left for you to find for a reason, just as what happened to your friend happened for a reason.” He sprinkled some of the glitter into my coffee and stirred it with his finger. I watched as he licked a drop from his fingertip before gesturing toward the cup.