Passion's Fire (Passion Moon 2): (A Shifter, Supernatural Romance) Page 2

  I smiled and kissed him. “I know exactly what you mean, Forrest,” I moaned between kisses. How did this amazing man become a part of my heart so fast? Was it fate? Kismet?

  Maybe.

  I think Forrest knew my daddy. I had never met the man. I only knew what my momma said about him.

  “He's a traveler, Dakota,” she would always whisper. They had a one night stand, a magical night that my momma always fondly remembered. She loved him so much. Even when she married, she never forgot my daddy, always waiting for him to return.

  But he never did, so Momma had settled and married an abusive asshole named Wayne before she died of ovarian cancer when I was only five.

  Well, my magic came from somewhere, and the man who gave Forrest his barbwire tattoos to control his inner beast called himself a Traveler and had the same green eyes I possessed. The same eyes as my daddy. The Traveler tasked Forrest with guarding the Moon Tear Spring, protecting it from any who would want to abuse it.

  And I wanted to do the same. The Moon Tear Spring was special. If the wrong hands claimed its power, so much havoc could be wrought. I wanted to help Forrest protect it. So I needed to learn magic.

  And my first lesson was tomorrow.

  Chapter Two: Rabbits and Coyotes

  My bladder woke me up early. It was still dark in the room and Forrest quietly slept beside me. I rubbed my eyes and glanced at the clock: 5:43 AM. I sighed, laying my head back on the pillow. I wanted to sleep more, but Forrest would wake up in a few minutes anyways.

  He was an early riser.

  I slipped out of bed, the hardwood floors cold on my bare feet. I winced, dashing to my pink bathrobe, compliment of Moonrise Bed & Breakfast, and pulled it on before slipping on the fluffy, pink bunny slippers Augustus lent me. My feet now wrapped in snuggly warmth, I was ready to venture out of the bedroom.

  My feet whisked across the hardwood floors, bringing a smile to my lips. I slid my feet instead of picking them up, enjoying the sound as I headed down the hallway to the bathroom. The hallway lights were on: black, wrought-iron lamps set into the wall, the light bulbs shaped like candle flames. The whole inn had this turn-of-the-century feel. Interspersed between the lamps were landscape paintings, their frames dark wood carved with whirling designs. Each displayed the primal, pristine beauty of Montana, and each was signed with a flamboyant, red ‘A’ that clashed with the quaint feel of the inn.

  I grasped the porcelain handle of the bathroom door and stepped inside. The bathroom was small and cozy. It had a rustic, frontier vibe, like the rest of the bed and breakfast. Augustus, the owner, had decorated the place with gorgeous antiques. The toilet seemed old, and the bath/shower combination had a cast iron tub with feet. Pink candles sat on the toilet tank, and decorative hand soaps shaped like mountain lions rested in shell-shaped porcelain dishes.

  I loved the place.

  We couldn't stay at Forrest's place after Christian's attack. Poor Veronica, one of the two wolf-shifter deputies that had been guarding me, had been shot and her blood stained his bedroom. The first floor hallway where unfortunate Hank had been gutted by Christian was also in need of a thorough cleaning to get rid of the blood.

  Luckily, both Vanessa and Hank were doing well at the hospital in the nearby town of Granite Hills. I was so glad that they were on the mend since they had been wounded protecting me. Until Forrest's house was cleaned up, we were staying at the B&B.

  I finished my business and washed my hands in the sink, using the liquid soap dispenser—the mountain lion bars were just for decoration. I slipped back out. The sound of my slippers swishing across the wood brought a smile to my lips, when a voice purred, “Good morning, Ms. Kotie.”

  “Good morning, Augustus,” I grinned, spinning around on my slippers.

  Augustus, the owner of the bed and breakfast, stood at the end of the hallway, dressed in his gray kimono decorated with pink blossoms. He was a tall, lanky man, his blue-gray eyes dancing as he clasped his hands together, his fingers intertwined. His bleach-blond hair was already combed and gelled—he spent more time on his hair than I did on mine.

  “Oh, girl, you look gorgeous this morning.” He strode forward.

  “That robe looks so cute on you.”

  “Thank you kindly for letting me borrow it.”

  “I think I'll let you keep it. It looks so much better on you than me.” He shook his head. “Pink is really not my color.”

  His face had an angular cast, and I could see the fox in him. Like Forrest, he was a shifter, only he became a more foxlike creature than a wolf. I bet his natural hair color was a nice orange-red, far brighter than my dark-auburn locks.

  “I can't keep it,” I said.

  “Yes, you can. I insist.”

  “And the slippers?” I asked, shifting my feet.

  His eyes drifted down to my feet.

  “I don't know. I do enjoy my bunnies.” A hungry look crossed his eyes. Yep, he was definitely a fox. “Oh, fine, they do look amazing on you, girl. And you're still young enough to get away with wearing something that cute. You're not ancient like I am.”

  “You're in your thirties,” I said with an amused smile. “Hardly ancient.”

  “I know. Soon I'll be forty and it'll be all downhill.”

  The alarm went off in our bedroom, the beeps barely muffled by the walls. Forrest groaned before there was a loud slap silencing the clock. I pictured Forrest lunging over, his hand falling down hard, a growl escaping his throat.

  “Oh, I better go start breakfast,” Augustus said. “Your mate is going to eat my larder bare. How can one man eat so much?”

  I smiled, rolling my eyes. Augustus loved to cook as much as he loved to complain. “I'm sure it'll be scrumptious.”

  “Well of course,” he said. “Everything I touch is a masterpiece.”

  The door opened and Forrest appeared in a pair of sweatpants on, his chest bare. I wasn't the only one admiring his muscles. Augustus let out a purring, “Um-hmm,” before he turned and scampered down the hallway.

  “Morning,” I smiled at Forrest, walking over to him. “Want to shower together?”

  Forrest answered with a broad grin.

  I was glad Augustus had a nice set of water heaters because our shower went a little long. I had so much fun soaping Forrest's muscular body that we may have lost control. And if I lost control, then Forrest had no chance; his shifter senses breathed in my excitement and inflamed his ardor.

  We had to mop up all the water that escaped afterward. We were a little preoccupied for a while that we had failed to notice the shower curtain had pulled back. Forrest pressed me against the tiled wall, taking me hard from behind while the shower sprayed water all over the floor.

  But the pleasure was worth the cleanup.

  We quickly dressed, Forrest in his khaki sheriff's uniform, a gold star gleaming on his chest, while I pulled on a pair of skinny jeans and a scoop-neck, lavender blouse. My socks swished on the hardwood floors—they were almost as much fun to wear as the bunny slippers.

  When we walked downstairs, Forrest licked his chops, salivating like a wolf staring at its prey. Delicious scents of maple syrup, frying bacon, and eggs filled my nose. My stomach rumbled as Forrest went down the stairs before me, his feet stomping loud even without shoes on. I followed, grasping the polished banister.

  The first floor was breathtaking. Antique furniture, lovingly maintained, filled small rooms, each with their own theme. My first day here, the day after the attack, was spent wandering through the rooms. The place was almost a museum.

  Forrest didn't seem to appreciate it nearly as much as I did.

  The dining room table, normally covered by a gorgeous, hand-knitted doily, was covered with food. A tray of melons cut into slices, a platter of juicy bacon, omelets, and French toast covered in powder sugar.

  Another couple staying at the bed and breakfast was already there, politely eating when Forrest and I walked into the dining room. Augustus smiled, wearing a fril
ly apron that hung off his slender frame atop a rather dapper, gray suit, a pink pocket square adding a splash of color. Two omelets were on Forrest's plate, and I knew they would be stuffed full of ham and cheese. I had a southwestern omelet with crispy tomatoes.

  Forrest ate more than the rest of us combined. He piled it away, devouring the food. The other couple tried not to goggle as he polished off both omelets, several slices of French toast, half the bacon, and a few slices of melon. I barely finished my omelet and a single slice of honeydew and simply shook my head at my voracious mate. But he didn't have an ounce of fat on him. He was all muscle. I knew. I had examined his entire body the morning after the attack, kissing every last, intimate inch.

  “You have a wonderful day,” Augustus said, giving me a kiss on both cheeks when we finished breakfast.

  Forrest nodded, pulling on his Stetson.

  “Augustus, thanks for breakfast.”

  “It was delicious,” I nodded. “Thank you kindly for all you've done.”

  “Wait until supper,” Augustus said, clapping his hands together. He flowed to me and gave me a brief kiss on both my cheeks. “Oh, girl, you have a wonderful day and stay out of trouble.”

  “I'll try,” I giggled.

  “Until tonight,” Forrest said, clapping Augustus on the shoulder before walking to the front door.

  I followed. In the foyer, we pulled on our boots, my mine were red-dyed rattlesnake skin—I was a Texan girl at heart—and we strolled out of the bed and breakfast to the cool, foggy mountain air, the tops of the tall pine trees were lost in the swirling mist.

  We piled into Forrest's police SUV, and it started up with a growl. In moments, we were heading in to town, driving down the winding, mountain road.

  “The cleaners are coming by today,” Forrest said. “We can move back in probably tomorrow.”

  A throb of fear flowed through me. “Oh, that's nice.”

  Forrest glanced at me, his nose twitching. “You don't smell like it's nice.”

  “Oh, now that's unfair,” I pouted. “You get to smell how I'm really feeling.”

  “And you're trying to change the subject.”

  “Worth a try,” I muttered before I sweetly smiled at him.

  He gave me a fixed stare.

  “Fine. I mean it's nice to move back in, but...”

  The image of Veronica gasping on Forrest's bed as her blood pumped out of her guts filled my mind.

  Forrest's hand squeezed my thigh. “It's okay. We don't have to move back in right away.”

  “No, no, it's fine. We can't keep living at the bed and breakfast.” I forced a smile. “You're eating through poor Augustus's larder.”

  “We'll buy a new mattress and everything,” Forrest added. “The cleaners are getting rid of the old one. So this afternoon, we'll drive out to Granite Hills and buy new sheets and stuff.”

  I nodded my head.

  “Kotie,” Forrest said, clearing his throat. “There's, um, something else I wanted to ask.”

  “Oh?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows.

  “This Saturday is the annual Policeman's Ball. It's hosted by the Elk Lodge every year.”

  “The same one Christian burned down?” He did it to create a distraction, luring Forrest and most of his cops away so the bastard could kidnap me.

  “Well, it'll be held at the Kalipsel High School's gymnasium now,” Forrest said. “And, well, I was hoping you'd want to go.”

  I blinked. “Are you asking me out on a date?” A smile slid across my lips.

  “Well, yes,” he said. “It would mean a lot if you went.”

  “Of course,” I beamed. “Ooh, this sounds like such fun.”

  Forrest relaxed, nodding his head.

  “Did you think I'd say no?” I giggled at the relief painted across his face. “I mean, we're sleeping together. I think you should be past the fear of asking me out on a date.”

  “Probably,” Forrest nodded. “It's just that we kinda did this relationship backwards, you know.”

  “Definitely,” I nodded. “You're supposed to ask me out on the date before I sleep with you, not the other way around. Even if you did save me and were so irresistibly sexy.”

  Forrest laughed as he pulled into the Sheriff Department's parking lot. “Well, you're just a special woman, Kotie.”

  “Thanks.”

  He leaned over and kissed me.

  I had an hour or so to kill before I needed to get to work at the Moon Tear Roadhouse, so I lounged around the police department. All the deputies said hi, and a few even gave me hugs. I was a member of the pack now since I was the Alpha's mate, and they all fawned over me. If I wanted something, I knew they would all jump to fetch it for me.

  I said goodbye to Forrest as it neared the start of my shift and walked to the Moon Tear Roadhouse. Moonrise was a small town, set in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains in southeast Montana. The peaks rose about us, covered in tall pine trees. It was quite beautiful, the air crisp, without the terrible humidity of the Florida panhandle.

  That's where I fled from Burt. He had kept me almost a prisoner in our house the last year before I escaped.

  The Moon Tear Roadhouse was on the outskirts of town. It sat on the main highway that ran through Moonrise. It had faded-blue siding, and the wooden-slate roofing was a weathered gray. A neon sign flashed the bar's name beneath an image of a crescent moon shedding a tear.

  I pushed through the double doors into the dim interior. All the chairs were up on the small tables, the stools on the bar. Miss Maggie, the owner, bustled out of the kitchen. She was a stout, matronly woman, her gray hair tied back in a bun, and a warm smile on her face. She was a bear shifter, and could be quite fierce.

  “Mornin', Kotie,” she nodded.

  “Mornin',” I nodded back as I pulled the chairs down from the tables, setting them on the wooden floors. We spoke little as we worked to get the bar ready.

  The regulars began streaming in, mostly old men that hung out in the bar playing cards and drinking beer. They were a delightful, and irascible, group. They would laugh and joke, telling me how pretty I am while trying to pat my bottom.

  I didn't mind. It was so adorable the way they flirted with me.

  Around noon, the miners started filtering into the bar. It wasn't so cute when one of them tried to pinch my bottom, no matter how well they tipped. But I glared at them and slapped their hands away. If they did it a second time, I'd throw them out. None ever did it the second time. The miners were boisterous, drinking their beer and enjoying the grilled steak sandwiches Miss Maggie whipped up in her kitchen—they were the absolute best.

  As their lunch ended, the miners packed up and headed back to work. The bar was almost empty, except for a few of the Donovan Clan lounging around. They were a pack of coyote shifters and were responsible for most of the petty crime in Moonrise.

  Fiona, their pack leader, lounged at the table, her dark eyes locked on me, lush lips pursed. She stared at me like I was a piece of meat. I didn't like it one bit. The rest of her mangy pack laughed and bayed as they played cards and drank beer, but she ignored them, too fixed on me.

  “Why don't you come sit beside me,” Fiona purred, “and play some cards. We're the only ones in the bar. So why don't you have a rest and have some fun.”

  “I'm fine,” I said, my tone frosty.

  “Yes, you are.” Fiona's grin grew and she licked her red lips.

  I bristled, turning my back from her and walking to the bar. I could feel her eyes on me as I walked. Miss Maggie warned me about Fiona. The woman wasn't particular on whom she'd take as a lover, and she enjoyed clawing them up as well. Even if I didn't have Forrest or if I was actually a lesbian, I would want no part of the woman.

  “Don't walk away,” she purred. “Come on. I won't bite. I can be real friendly.”

  I walked behind the bar, washing a few mugs in the small sink.

  A chair scraped. Fiona stood and strode across the bar towards me, that hungry l
ook in her eyes. She wore tight, black pants, the leather creaking as she walked. How did she get out of those? They seemed painted on. She leaned on the bar opposite me, licking her lips lewdly again.

  “Come on, Kotie,” she purred, touching my hand. “Have some fun with me.”

  I jerked my hand back and glared at her. “You know who my mate is, right? Do you really want to mess with him?”

  “I'm not afraid of your little wolf.”

  “Right,” I snorted, rolling my eyes. I put my hands on my hips and glared at her. She was a disgusting coyote. I wasn't about to put up with her flirting. “Well, I don't want to have anything to do with mangy bitch like you.”

  Fiona's smile grew. “I like your fire. You'll keep me nice and warm.”

  “I'd burn you up,” I said. “You're not strong enough to handle my heat. Run back to your pack of dogs. I'm sure one of them will let you hump their leg.”

  The Donovan boys whooped at that. “You can hump my legs anytime, Fiona,” one howled.

  I arched an eyebrow. “You go sit back down and enjoy your drinks, or I'll kick your skank ass out faster than you can say bitch.”

  Fiona eyed me, licking her chops, then sauntered back to her table. I went back to cleaning my mugs.

  Miss Maggie came out with a two plates of food—fries and those delicious steak sandwiches—setting them on the bar. We ate and watched the Donovan’s curse and cackle as they played poker. Fiona's eyes were still locked on my body, that disgusting smile on her face.

  “You keep handlin' her like that,” Miss Maggie whispered when we finished. “Remember, she's a coyote. They're nothin' more than cowardly dogs. Be the wolf and chase her off.”

  “Thanks,” I nodded.

  “Penny should be here real soon,” Miss Maggie added.

  An excited flutter went through me. My first magic lesson.

  The disgust Fiona had left in me faded as I glanced at the door, eager for Penny to arrive. She may have been an airhead, but she was the only witch in Moonrise that could teach me. A few minutes later, the double doors burst open and Penny sauntered into the bar.

  An anticipatory thrill went through me. It was time to learn magic.