Shifting the Night Away (44 page)

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Clara heard the commotion from her office, and decided she’d take a break from Jenna’s case file and investigate the ruckus in the emergency room. A man, with dark waves falling just above his shoulders, and muscles that bulged from his chest, arms and legs stood in the middle of the entryway carrying a woman who was bleeding. Nurses and trauma doctors rushed to help. Behind the man stood a leggy brunette, and a blond man with similar physique to the dark-haired rescuer. Behind them was a man with tomato-red hair and peach-colored skin covered in freckles, a curvy woman with golden-blonde hair, and a man with milk-chocolate skin and glasses typing on his computer.

Everyone in the group was gorgeous, but there was something familiar about the man with the dark waves. She moved in closer, oblivious to all the chaos surrounding them. He placed the sandy-haired woman on the gurney, and the doctors and staff took over heading toward the operating room. Clara couldn’t take her eyes off the dark haired man. His green eyes narrowed on hers, and her steps froze. Her hand reached out, a mind of its own, to touch the scar that slashed across his neck and undoubtedly led down his torso. “Wolf attack.” She whispered.

“What did you say?” He stepped into her personal space which was enough to jar her out of her hypnotic state.
 

She stepped back as he stepped forward, and she only stopped when her back hit the wall. He didn’t. He was inches from her body, and from the size of him at least double her weight. She was petite as it was, but this man, up close and personal, invading her space, narrowing his eyes and vibrating danger from his pores was massive.

She wouldn’t let herself feel threatened. She slipped a lock of her hair back behind her ear and raised her chin defiantly. Her palms pressed against his chest and pushed him back. He didn’t stumble, but did take a step back, apology in his emerald eyes. “Excuse me!”

“No apologies are necessary.” He turned to join his group.

“I wasn’t… apologizing.” She tried to sound tough, but lost her courage with the last word.
 

The boy with the computer and dark skin approached her as Michael walked away. “Hello, I’m Isaac Johnson. You said the words wolf attack when we first got in. Why is that?”

“His scars, they looked like wolf claw marks.” She answered him. “Are you the police?”

“Not exactly.” The brunette with tan skin flanked Clara on the other side. “We’re with the government. I’m Willow Dawn, and the man you just spoke to is Michael Windsor.”

“Michael Windsor?” Excitement and apprehension filled her mind and body. “Excuse me, Mr. Windsor?” Michael turned and narrowed his gaze at her. “Can I have a moment?”

He examined the doctor. She was pretty, almost innocent, but when he had her against the wall he felt her fear. It was what made him stand down. “No.” He turned back to Seren, Stephen, and Tyler.

“Okay, maybe we got off on the wrong foot.” She walked right past Isaac and Willow. “It’s just that I was wondering if your name is a family name.”

“Why do you ask?” Michael had been advised multiple times over the last century to change his name, but never had because it was one of the last vestiges to his human life, a connection and reminder of his loss. Besides, his position afforded him the leniency to keep it.

“I just think I know someone in your family.” Clara offered a weak smile.
 

“Impossible.”

“It’s just that…”

“Look, lady, you’re pretty enough, but I’m not interested.”

Clara felt a blush color her cheeks. “I wasn’t… God, no… I mean, you’re attractive enough yourself, but I think I know someone who knows your family. I think meeting you would actually be very helpful for her recovery.” Clara hadn’t felt this frustrated in a long time. This man oozed fear and intimidation.

Michael sighed heavily, “Look, doctor?”

“Oh, not a doctor, hypnotherapist. Clara Jameson, please.” She hated that Doctor Jonas made her wear the lab coat. It only confused people. The young blond man snickered behind Michael.

“Knock it off, Stephen.” Seren jabbed him in the ribs, hard.

“Why do you think the client would benefit from meeting me?”

Because your name was the one she used to describe her dead fiancé. In fact her description of you matches you to perfection, even the claw marks from a wolf.
She wanted to say, but knew she’d already said too much. She was dangerously close to crossing patient confidentiality lines. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Let me see if I understand you correctly. You have a client who mentioned my family name in a session and you think it would be important for me to meet this person?” He shook his head. “No one in this town knows me or my family.”

Clara barely heard him. She was too busy looking around, trying to find the angry eyes she felt on her. As part of an experiment she’d been using self-hypnosis to open her third eye and create a stronger psychic connection. She figured this would make her a stronger healer, but with all the things surrounding her life lately she wondered if it wasn’t a better idea to keep that third eye closed.

“Michael, why don’t you humor the therapist and help her client. It’s our number one job, helping people, supernatural or not.” Seren said the last part so low human ears couldn’t hear.
 

“Fine.”
 

“What?” Clara’s eyes darted around the room one more time and then back to the group. “I’m sorry. So you’ll help? That’s great. Please come with me.” Clara led him down the hallway, to the elevator, back through another hallway, and through some security doors without a word.
 

He stopped her dead in her tracks. “You’re taking me to see someone in a psych ward?”

“We don’t call it that, and neither should you. Jenna is just here for observation.”

“I don’t know any Jenna.”

Clara stopped in front of the door. “How about someone named Isabella? Could someone with that name be in your family tree?”

“Isabella?” He hadn’t spoken her name in decades. The very sound and taste of it on his lips was bittersweet.
 

“Yes, I regressed my client to a past life where she was named Isabella, and engaged to a man named Michael Windsor.” Inside she cringed, she knew she’d said too much, but she knew, deep down, instinctively knew, she needed these two to meet.

“Where is she?” He grew anxious, body sprung tight like a coiled up viper ready to strike.

“I need you to promise me that you won’t mention what I just said.”

“Where. Is. She?” He growled, his beast already clawing at the surface begging to get out and meet its mate.
 

Clara looked around nervously. “Maybe this was a mistake.”

The growl that came from his gut was the closest thing he could utter to speech. His world was hanging on her next words, like it had been a century ago when he asked Isabella to marry him. She’d made him wait seven seconds before saying yes, seven agonizing seconds, and now this strange woman was doing the same. Torturing him, keeping him from her.

With a shaky hand she pointed to the door in front of them. He didn’t wait for an invitation, he just walked in, closing the door behind him, locking it and affording them a moment of privacy. He needed to assess the situation and make sure she was his. She didn’t look the same. This Jenna had deep auburn hair and hazel eyes. Isabella’s cinnamon skin was replaced with a milky white porcelain which complimented her new coloring. She wasn’t Isabella, but she was, his very soul recognized her instantly and his beast growled possessively,
mine!
 

Fear, confusion, maybe even recognition swirled around her deep hazel eyes. “Are you…a….ghost?”
 

The words barely left her mouth before he crossed the room and crushed his lips to hers. He’d waited a century to taste her again. Sure, there were other women over the years, but none of them held a candle to her. His beast snarled and clawed at the cage he kept him in which only increased the intensity. When she opened up to him he plundered her mouth with his tongue and nipped her plump lips with his teeth, teeth that threatened to lengthen. In the recesses of his mind, Michael questioned whether or not he could hold his desire in check. He needed to remind himself this wasn’t his Isabella, this was a stranger who held the other half of his soul. Need raged on.
 

Jenna melted into his strong arms and opened up to allow him to deepen the kiss. Their tongues began an intimate dance that ignited her body on fire. She must be dreaming. She had to be. It was the dream before the nightmare. She’d stay here a while, at least until the killer returned.
 

His touch was so real, and the guttural growl that rumbled from his chest vibrated her very core. She didn’t remember his hands having callouses in the dreams she shared with him before, but enjoyed the way they felt against her skin. Just as his fingers worked their way up her spine and down her arms. Her heart stopped beating the moment he suddenly broke the kiss.
 

“What’s this?” He looked at the restraints on her wrists and pulled the hospital blanket off to inspect her feet.
 

A red blush crept up the back of her neck and burned her cheeks. It was odd she was still cuffed to the bed in her dream, and even odder she felt embarrassment around him, but she did. “I’m under observation.”

He growled and ripped the cloth restraints off her limbs. “No one but me restrains my mate, and those times are only reserved for pleasure.” His eyes locked with hers as a wolfish grin spread across his lips.

The sheer danger in his movements, the strength in his body, and his words made her hot for him more than ever before. This dream was definitely a step up from her previous ones, and she intended to take advantage of that.
 

“It was for my protection.” She advised him.

His grin disappeared at her words, seriousness in his eyes. This time when his eyes met hers they held a red glow that stopped her heart for a moment. She knew she should fear him, but didn’t. This could turn into a nightmare very fast, but all she wanted was to touch him, hold him, tell him it’s all going to be okay.
 

It took all the inner strength he had to control his anger. “It’s my job to protect you, my love.” His voice harsher than intended. “I won’t fail you again.”

She held out her arms and waited for him to come to her. He did. Enfolding her in a tight embrace, one she thought would squeeze the life out of her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he carried her to the comfortable chair in the corner of the room. When he sat down she was straddling his lap and evidence of his erection pressed against her core. Brazen, because it was her dream, she leaned in and kissed his lips which ignited a firestorm of passion between them. Tongues battling for dominance, hands roaming each other, bodies grinding together only alluded to the promise of what was to come. She wanted him, needed him. He was her reward for living through another nightmare. When he was done pleasuring her body, her killer would come and take her life. Only this time, she was armed with a tool to protect herself.
 

Her hands started unbuttoning his shirt. She wanted to unwrap her present. That’s what he was, a cherished gift. His hands dug into her waist as he pulled her harder against him. His need for release was incredible, his erection so painful against his jeans. The desire to be inside her was uncontrollable. When her fingers circled his nipples he almost lost it. His lips on her neck, his teeth cut into her skin ever so slightly. It was all it took. The taste of blood, his mate’s blood released the beast.

His hands moved further up her torso and cupped her full breast, rolling the nipple in his fingers until she moaned in response. The musky scent of her arousal pushed him on. His other hand circled around her ass and found the treasured center of her body. When his finger entered her she let out a groan of pleasure that was like music to his ears.
 

His invasion into her core drove her wild with abandon, and she moved her hips up and down to ride his finger, as her hands went to his jeans.

He went back to her lips as she rode his fingers, one, then two, then three. His thumb flicked her clit just as her fingers caressed the tip of his cock. He felt her tighten and knew she was close to a release. He steadied her. “I want to be inside you when you come.”

She wanted that, too. She removed herself from his lap and he freed himself of his pants. His erection was bigger than she remembered from the last dream, and she wondered if he was going to fit. Instead of worrying about what nature would resolve she untied her hospital gown and bared her breast from him.

He pulled her back into his lap and paid homage to the bountiful mounds on her chest. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of his tongue on her nipple and his hand squeezing the other one. “Look at me.” He growled. “I want to be completely connected to you when I enter you.”

Jenna, lost in the waves of passion his fingers were creating on her body, obeyed. It was odd, staring into his eyes. It made things more intense and real. He waited, his eyes holding an unasked question. She nodded and he plunged deep inside her, filling her, stretching her.
 

“Are you okay?” Concern in his eyes and face.