With that she closed her eyes and ran her hands over her hair. White strands made way for brown, freckles once again marred porcelain skin, and exotic eyes became ordinary brown. He tried very hard not to tell her to change back immediately. Now that he had seen the real Ivory, he found this one distasteful almost. It wasn’t her appearance – he would find her beautiful no matter what guise she wore. But it was the fact she seemed to lose some of her spark when the glamour was in place. One day soon they would find answers to her strange past and a solution to hiding her face. But at the moment, the most pressing issue was the sick fuck threatening her. Nothing mattered more than her safety – even their own happiness.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Ivory fled downstairs and into the sanctuary of her cellar. The room was dark and cool, chilling her heated cheeks and calming her wildly beating heart. The dim and the quiet were exactly what she needed to gather her scrambling thoughts. Familiars? Mates? She shook her head, remembering when the most stressful part of her day was waking up to a dead bunny on her doorstep. What was she supposed to do with three domineering men who were connected to her magically? And what was worse, they believed she was also connected to them on a primal level. She plonked her butt down on the nearest box, telling her cat to shut the hell up. The darn thing had been mewling and purring ever since Seth had shifted in front of her. It had no doubt whatsoever that Seth and the other two male black jaguars were meant for her.
Stupid horny cat!She groused. Now that the more powerful glamour had dissolved, she easily recognised them as familiars – her familiars. Her mother had told her all about familiars and witches, so she knew there was a natural magical bond between familiars and their covens. Having never been exposed to such relationships, she had never felt she was lacking anything. But now that her magic was reaching out to the three familiars, she realised there had been a big empty space where her magic resided. She found herself wanting to ask them to do things for her, or just be with her – in a completely non-sexual way. It was like she wanted them to be her best friend or something. It was very odd but felt so natural at the same time.
However, the second her panther chimed in on the situation, it was all about the sexual feelings. Her cat did indeed love the smell of the three men. Even with the glamour in place, she had to fight the animal’s desire to shift and run back upstairs. But the human part of her had meant what she said to Vaughn; was their attraction, their intimacy nothing more than animal instinct coupled with a bloodline bond? The thought hurt her more than it should. She didn’t want to be reduced to fate – no matter how cool that was. She wanted to be a choice.
She sighed, kicking her feet against her makeshift chair and hearing a dull thud. Looking down, she discovered she was sitting on a box that held two dozen bottles of a truly lovely white wine. Taking it as a sign from the alcohol gods, she had the box opened and the cork popped in one minute flat. She tipped the bottle back and did a decent job of being a frat boy – skulling a third of the contents in one breath.
“Whoa, Ivory?!”
The deep voice behind her interrupted her concentration from her wine guzzling and she choked, inhaling the bubbles instead of swallowing them. A hard hand patted and rubbed her on the back until she was able to stand upright and breathe again.
“Lee?” she coughed.
“Yeah. What the hell are you doing?” he was eyeing her as if she was some kind of closet alcoholic or something.
“I was just um, testing the wine,” she stuttered, ingeniously holding it up to the light spilling through the now open cellar door, “It has a smooth, easy finish with ripe, tropical fruit flavours and a hint of gooseberry. Great depth of flavours,” she nodded her head sagely.
He didn’t look convinced, “This isn’t a regular occurrence, is it?”
She stopped holding the bottle up, rolling her eyes, “No, Lee. I don’t make a habit of hiding in the dark and swilling our wine supplies. What are you doing here anyway?” she asked, changing the subject.
“It’s almost ten. Libby and I are on the early shift today. You’re not supposed to be in until three,” he informed her.
Almost ten?It was later than she thought. The bar opened at eleven but whoever was on first shift arrived about an hour before to set the place up and get organised. But what was more alarming was the fact Lee said Libby was there. Libby would be able to take one look at her face and know something was up, “Libby’s here?” she squeaked, feeling the beginnings of the wine hitting her bloodstream.
“You bet your arse Libby is here,” came the gleeful voice from behind a still-suspicious looking Lee.
Ivory forced back a shiver at Libby’s gleeful tone. One look and she already knew, Ivory thought. She knew she had spent the night in deviant bliss with three different penises at the same time. She’d rather have them believe she was an alcoholic. Libby was going to be merciless, “I was just –” She began to make a lame excuse to flee, only to be interrupted.
“Investigating how much gooseberry is in our most expensive wine. I heard. I’ll help you,” she gave Lee a none too gentle shove before closing the door soundly in his face and leaning back against the door.
Was it Ivory’s imagination, or did Libby look a little demonic in this light? She backed away slowly, holding the bottle of wine as if it were a shield, “Now Lib …”
Her friend stalked her across the room, “Don’t you use that placating tone on me, you little hussy. I know that look. You had sex!” Libby yelled.
Ivory shook her head, “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”
“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter. You totally banged someone!”
“Shh! Would you keep your voice down?!” She shushed her bestie, glancing at the door.
“Sorry, sorry. It’s just that my level of excitement is, like, high,” Libby enthused, making Ivory smile despite herself, “Well, tell me. Which one was it?”
Ivory felt herself blush, cursing the fair, freckled face of her glamour. Why hadn’t she chosen a darker complexion?
“Wait, don’t tell me …” Libby studied her face for a moment, running critical eyes over her entire appearance, “Was it all of them? Oh my god! It was all of them, wasn’t it? Holy shit! This is amazing!”
Ivory took a decent swig from the bottle clutched in a death grip in her hands, “Huh? What? What makes you say that?”
“Because you have the look that only the truly well-fucked can have,” her filthy, plain-spoken friend assured her.
“Libby!”
“Well, it’s true. Not that I would know. I haven’t worn that look in years,” she lamented, “How was it?”