Her Lycan Lover (2 page)

One slash to cauterize. Then again. She slashed and wove the universal elements together, forming a seal over the breach in the energy shield between the Fae realm and Denver. A couple more lashes. The beat of her heart jackhammered behind her ribs, keeping tempo with the rapid-fire movement of her spellcaster dagger wielding magick. The edge of the knife glittered, magically forged at the request of her grand-mère
years ago and given to her when she came of age. The shimmering surface reflected the energy beacons flashing from above. More wind, and now the stench was overpowering. The Dark Fae shadows were visible just beyond the shield. Their rank odor of decay permeated the space, becoming more and more nauseating.

She urgently
needed more spellcaster fire to seal this last tear. Flickering beams were on the other side of the hole. Inky tendrils wove around her wrist and she cut through them with her blade. She telepathically called out to spellcasters along the line, requesting air and fire elements. The hole needed to be cauterized if the shield was to hold, keeping the Dark Fae from crossing into Earth’s dimension. An inky shadow touched her skin, imparting bitter coldness along with an icy scorch. The pain shot through her body. An insidious hiss discharged into her consciousness and she heard the Fae whisper her name. Sherry cut through the icy shadow tendrils reaching out for her. The Fae figure rocked backward, its energy lines severed. One down. But more were coming.

Dark Fae were deceptive in how they manifested along the ley lines. Inky figures to smoky cloud formations. One never knew until it was too late. If they crossed over and through her, they’d absorb her life force, leaving her a prisoner within the energy line.

Focus, she reminded herself. The muscles in her arms trembled as a full charge released from her blade, scoring the edge of the tear. The seal was complete and in place. She exhaled, her shoulders relaxing. An inky figure clambered up the shield, caught on the other side. The shadow pounded against the shield barrier, becoming louder and more frenzied, but Sherry was aware that without an open rip the Dark Fae weren’t crossing.

Not this time.

The repair was in place, but more and more shadows thundered on the other side. The Dark Fae thrashing against the shield unnerved her and left her heart battering within her chest, ready to burst out her throat. She sprinted down the passage on the extension and through one of the energy portals leading back to the city. Exiting this energy doorway, she regained her physical form and stood within the casting circle in the basement of an abandoned building. She walked over to the cement block wall at the back of the empty elevator shaft. Sherry untied her knife, then bent over, retrieving the leather sheath where she’d left it. Tucking her blade securely into the waistband of her pants, she began climbing the rusty metal rungs leading upward into the early morning glow. Worn out, she scrambled out of the elevator shaft.

It had been dark when she’d descended. She squinted from the sunlight filtering through the broken panes of glass set in the dingy windows along the empty first floor of the condemned warehouse. Damn, she’d pulled another all-nighter. Impossible to keep track of hours or minutes down there. Time within the ley line network couldn’t be measured by clocks. The fourth dimension was beholden to ancient magick and free from mankind’s inventions.

Rarely had she been under this much pressure. More and more, the Fae were making appearances at the border between the realms, challenging spellcasters. Only last week two casters were lost. Still missing. The Denver energy shield suffered several tears. That made three times this week alone.

Sherry pushed herself out of the shaft and dusted her hands off on her pants. Grabbing her bag, she jogged out the front door, digging for her keys. Sherry climbed inside her car, then promptly locked the door and gunned the engine. A quick backward glance at the building doorway, then she pulled away from the abandoned warehouse. She focused on the sun peeking over the Rockies, painting the sky pink and warming the chill from her bones. No sleep for the wicked but, hey, it meant the freakish Dark Fae were locked out of this dimension. Her plan: home, a shower and coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.

A little before eight, Sherry walked into Alvin’s LoDo Joe Stop, the pungent aroma of freshly ground beans floating through the air around her.

“Got it right here.” Alvin scooted the large cup of coffee across the counter.

She put cash in the lanky shapeshifter’s hand. There wasn’t another second separating her from nirvana. Tilting the cup to her lips, she savored the hot liquid. The closest thing to orgasmic in her world.

“Lovely.” The smoky flavor of the brew reminded her—not a bean left in her stash at the office. Desperate for caffeine after her long, sleepless night, she gulped the sweet concoction, and walked to the shelf where bags of roasted beans were arranged in neat rows.
What looks good?

“Any suggestions?” Sherry called toward the counter.

“Dark roast. Bella. From Guatemala,” Alvin said.

She ran her eyes over the labels until she found the one he’d mentioned and picked up a bag. All she had to do was pay for it and she could finish her early morning love affair in her car. Inhaling the nutty aroma, she sighed as the tension in her shoulders lessened. Working full-time at the Downtown Den, she’d need fuel to make it through the day, not to mention doing field work for the Sisterhood Council again tonight. Whoever said being a spellcaster was glam had gotten the memo arse-backwards.

“This mix smells heavenly.” She held out her credit card.

Alvin held up his hand. “Put it away. It’s the least I can do.”

She smiled, depositing a couple of bucks in the tip jar. “Always perfect,” she murmured. The caffeine was definitely beginning to kick in.

“That’s what I was just thinking about you, babe.”

She laughed, enjoying the banter she shared with Alvin. This was the turning point each morning. Sipping the steaming low fat caramel double shot Americano with two ice cubes, she perceived the circuitry within her brain reconnecting.

“Ever think of a drive-thru window?” she asked after downing half the cup.

“Never.” Alvin shook his head. His unkempt blondish-grey hair reminded her of a wild mane and, between that and his earring, he resembled a displaced surfer from the West Coast. What a combination he must have been in his day—lion shifter and beach bum. “I like to see my customers face to face. Especially when it’s yours. Makes my whole day… delicious.” Alvin winked good-naturedly.

“It would be efficient,” Sherry said hopefully. “The drive-thru, I mean.” In her peripheral vision, she’d noted a burst of energy. Uneasily, she glanced around. The place was packed with customers. Men and women talked on cellphones or texted or typed on computer keyboards. One or two sat and read the paper. Something was off. She was shivering.

Alvin leaned over the counter. “I gave up the nine-to-five a long time ago.”

“Not me.” Another zap. She returned her gaze to Alvin. “Guess I’d better skedaddle.”

She grew more apprehensive, being bombarded by the energy of the many jittery shifters seated around the shop. The bleeps and bursts of electrical flares skittered over her skin. Shifter energy bursts were usually akin to pinpricks but these were worse somehow.

Strange. She hadn’t had her full caffeine fix. Another burst, this time a stabbing pain skidded along her skin. She narrowed her eyes. This wasn’t shifter energy, this was
ley line
activity. She wasn’t accustomed to line flares during daylight hours. Lambasts of static energy from ley highways running through Denver happened closer to three in the morning. Rarely at other times.

Denver was a low key outpost. Not as interesting as London, but a good station to learn the ropes of spellcasting. As a member of the Sisterhood Council it was her sole purpose to maintain the energy shield that served as a barrier between the realms, separating Earth’s borders from the underworld of Dark Fae.

As a third level spellcaster there was nothing spectacular for her to do other than line maintenance and repairs but in time, if she played her cards right, she might work her way up to sixth level. Then she could seek a seat on the Sisterhood Council. Her intention was to shake things up, modernize and do away with castes that locked casters into slots governed by their heritage. The old way was unfair and unnecessary.

“See ya tomorrow,” Alvin said, cracking a grin. “Same time. I’ll have you fixed up.”

“Am I that predictable?” she huffed.

“Just a smidge.” He laughed. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with structure if it works. I bit the bullet, but had to let go.”

“I might try a latte tomorrow,” she said, arching a brow. She wasn’t a stick in the mud. She’d manned the post in the States the Sisterhood had assigned her, and so far there hadn’t been one breach. Her record was nearly pristine.

Sherry pushed open the exit door. An attractive man, a professional by the look of his charcoal suit, stood just outside. His black eyes glittered, staring back at her.

“Morning,” she said.

“Top,” he returned and unleashed a sexy as
sin smile that sent a jolt to her stomach. He stood aside to let her exit.

As she moved closer to him, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. “Thanks,” she murmured, glancing up into his face for a moment.

Something about him eroded her usual self control. He had a dark, magnetic aura that drew her attention. Her pulse quickened. There was only one other man who stirred her this way.

“Are you from London?” the stranger asked.

Sherry tilted her head at the sound of his accent. One she knew all too well
.
“Not too far. Berkshire.”

“I’ve traveled there. Beautiful city… and women.” One corner of his mouth lifted.

“You have a silver tongue. From Ireland?”

“Guilty. Can’t be helped.” He spoke with an alluring undercurrent of an Irish brogue. It was like silk to her senses. Wiping his hand down his face, he announced, “Rain is coming.”

“Good to know.” Sherry gazed into his piercing eyes for a millisecond, and then her stomach churned. A bigger sucker for a player from the UK did not exist in all of LoDo, but this gentleman suddenly made her feel exhausted.

“I thought I felt a drop.” He smiled, and she forgot all about the weather.

Another man appeared behind tall, dark and Irish, grimacing impatiently. “How about it?” he asked.

Smiling back at her, the man winked. Her move. This she knew. Time to call a stalemate.

“I’d better run.” Sherry called over her shoulder and walked past both men, shaking off an odd drained feeling, only to have a raindrop hit dead center on her forehead as soon as she cleared the overhead awning.

“Great,” she muttered. That was as long as her interactions with handsome men lasted. Less than ten seconds on average.

Outside the sun had all but disappeared, overwhelmed by blanketing clouds. The stranger’s forecast had been spot-on. The wind began to pick up, and she wondered if she’d make it to her car before all hell let loose. Jogging in stilettos was nothing new. At least she wasn’t hightailing it up a flight of stairs on a mission to deal with edgy shifters. She power-walked down the sidewalk. At this time in the morning the place was jumping, and if she wasn’t careful she’d be drenched.

As she rounded the corner, a high-pitched whining bounced off the brick buildings which stood on either side of the alley where her SUV was parked. The pitiful whining grew louder as though she were getting closer to it. She scanned the pavement, seeing only cardboard boxes stacked next to a garbage can. She bent down, searching for what must have been a small animal about to be left out in the open and alone in a rainstorm.

A dark blurring form skittered under her car. She gasped and dropped her coffee cup at her feet. The dark liquid splattered the front hub cap and her ankles, a puddle spreading on the pavement. Then she heard the whining again. She crouched down to get a closer look. Her eyes widened.
A wolf pup?

“Are you okay?” she whispered to the trembling pup.

It cowered near a back tire. A silver tipped muzzle and glowing eyes stared out at her helplessly. Sherry cooed, holding out her hand. The young wolf inched toward her outstretched fingers.

“That’s it. Come on, little guy.”

The pup crawled out from under the car, his belly to the pavement and his head lowered. After clearing the underside of the car, the wolf shifted into a boy, no older than five or six.

He held out his arms, opened his mouth, and began to sob. “I can’t find my mommy.”

“Don’t cry. We’ll find her.” Sherry had less experience dealing with children than she did with men, but she took the child’s hand. This was going to take a whole lot longer than a few seconds, she was certain. When his spindly arms reached up and hugged her neck, her chest convulsed.

“It’s going to be okay.” She picked him up, opened her car door, and grabbed her jacket to wrap him in it. Rarely had she witnessed a child shifting and here she had a young wolf in her car.

“Please, help me.” His bright eyes met hers, and the feeling of falling hit her stomach. His lips trembled. “I can’t find her. I looked and looked.”

Taking him to the authorities would mean he’d be held in custody at one of the decrepit shifter detention centers. She wasn’t proud of the fact that humans were less than efficient in learning how to humanely treat shifters who’d become part of the civilized world when a treaty had been signed, well over fifty years ago. Shifters had rights, though so far not equal to humans. Vampires had even fewer, but they’d learned how to deal from an invisible vantage point within government circles to get what they desired.

None of that mattered at this moment, when the child let out an earsplitting howl. Sherry covered his mouth with her hand. “You can’t do that,” she said. “Understand?”

He nodded his head and she removed her hand, wiping away his tears. “Where did you last see her? Is she getting coffee? There’s a shop around front.”

“No. Last night. At dinner over there.” The child pointed to a café across the street. Closed now, but the twinkling lights were still lit around the garden tables out front.