Mystical Xmas: Paranormal Romance Anthology Box Set Read online

  “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, an
d 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.

  Jenna answered by moving up and down on his lap. He answered her by trying to match her rhythm. In the past he hadn’t made love to Isabella. That was saved for the wedding night. Now, he released a century of missed moments and passion on her and she responded openly to his desire. Taking and giving just as much. They both worked each other to a frenzy and when she crashed into her orgasm, he joined her moments later, filling her with his seed.

  Exhausted, she dropped her head to his shoulder. He held her in a tight embrace. Now that he had her he was never going to let her go. She was his. He’d find a way to make her a wolf so she could spend centuries with him. If he couldn’t, he’d die at her side and they’d come back as humans in another life, with another chance.

  “I can’t believe you’ve returned to me.” His eyes were moist with unshed tears. “By the Gods, Serendipity was right. You’re back.”

  Jenna’s fingers caressed the scar at his neck. She didn’t want this moment to end, the longer she kept him in her arms the longer she’d keep the night terrors at bay. “What happened to your neck?”

  It was the only scar on his body that remained after the change. Every other wound healed as if by magic, or perhaps the highly accelerated metabolism of the wolf. But this was his maker’s mark. Serendipity was in such a frenzy to save both of them that she didn’t calculate the best place to mark them. She slashed and bit their bodies hoping the virus would take root and claim them as a wolf host.

  “The night I was… unable to save you.” The words tasted bittersweet on his tongue. “A werewolf named Serendipity came to our rescue and tried to save both of us. You were too far gone and rejected the wolf, but I accepted the symbiotic relationship.” He swallowed hard. “This is the mark that stayed behind, it’s called a maker’s mark. It runs from my neck to just below my heart.” He looked at her strange yet familiar eyes. “How come you’re so comfortable with all of this?”

  “You come to me in my dreams all the time. Although today was a little different, but I’ve loved you all my life. Soon the nightmare will come and my murderer will kill me, but tomorrow you’ll be back, a present to unwrap and cherish.” She looked at his scar. “I never saw this in my dreams before.”

  “That’s because you’re not dreaming.” Worry creased his forehead. Did she think what they just shared was a dream? Would she regret being with him in reality? Fear seized his heart. Would she reject him?

  She laughed nervously. “Of course it is, silly.” She stood up and put her clothes back on straight. Her bare feet padded back to the bed. Readying herself for her killer, pulling away from her lover was excruciatingly painful.

  “No, Isabella… I mean, Jenna. This is real. You’re not asleep.”

  “But… that can’t be. You haven’t changed.”

  “Believe me, I’ve changed. As I’m sure you’ve changed. But we are still the same souls.” He joined her on the bed. “I’m here now, and I’m going to protect you. I’m going to help you with the nightmares.”

  Jenna knew what she was hearing was just part of her dream, but she wished it was true. What she wouldn’t give to have her dream man come to life and protect her.

  She didn’t answer him, but the hope in her eyes was all he needed for now. He just prayed when she discovered what they’d done was real she’d forgive him. “Tell me, why are you here?”

  “I couldn’t take the nightmares anymore.”

  “What nightmares?” She keeps talking about these night terrors, a killer, and dreams they’d shared. He wanted to fix everything for her. He had a do-over, and he was going to make sure she was taken care of this time.

  She shook her head, “it doesn’t matter. Kiss me again. I need you, Michael.”

  How could he turn her down? He nipped her lower lip and she opened for him. This time restraint was something he had a hold of. He wouldn’t make love to her again until she knew the difference between dream him and real him. His kiss was gentle and flooded her with so much emotion.

  “Tell me about the dreams.” He insisted when he broke the kiss.

  “She dreams of me.” Doctor J
onas tossed Clara into the room, ripping some of her hair out in the process. He wasn’t the same mild-mannered looking man. His short, stout appearance morphed into a taller, more muscular man. His coloring changed from pale white to blue and red marble. Black wings spread from his back.

  “Well, now that is different.” Jenna hopped out of bed, ready to face the nightmare head on. “Michael you should leave, he’s after me. You’re never here during this part.” She glanced back at Clara who was picking herself up off the floor.

  “What the hell is happening?” Clara’s voice was an octave higher than normal.

  “I suppose you’re here to help me with those techniques you gave me?” Jenna smiled a grateful grin. “I appreciate it, but you should really go now.” Things were different. The nightmare was always her, alone, facing down her killer - never a demon, just a faceless man. She glanced around the room looking for some sort of weapon. She’d never fought back before, was always gripped with fear, but now, surrounded by people who were helping her she felt empowered.

  “You two have been the bane of my existence for over a century.” The demon spat, his eyes turned an ugly yellow. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

  “Why?” Michael needed to understand why this demon took his mate away, why he tried to kill him. He’d hear his excuses, and then he’d rip the ugly son-of-a-bitch apart with his teeth.

  “I supposed you deserve to know. You were part of a royal kill list. I was sent by my father to extinguish your life so the one he wanted in power could take the throne. But you… didn’t die!” He slashed a jagged dagger in Michael’s direction. Michael dodged the blow and managed to pull Jenna with him securing her behind him.

  Clara used the distraction to position herself behind her demon boss. Now she just needed a weapon. Her eyes narrowed on the IV stand and she crept toward it. She didn’t know what was going on, but she’d been attacked before and didn’t fight back. This time was different. She knew how to protect herself…against a demon, not so much, but at least she had help.