Page 21 of Ivory's Familiars

He looked up sharply when Ivory’s tone changed from happy to guarded. Seth’s face was as serious as he had ever seen it. But there was also something else – rage, Ronan thought – standing from his seat. Seth was furious about something.

“A customer just walked up to me and handed me this envelope,” he held up a plain, familiar envelope between two fingers, “Said he found it stuck to the closed front door, saw it was addressed to Ivory and handed it in. He’s a local – didn’t seem to be lying,” he added, nodding in their direction to communicate that his panther hadn’t scented a lie. The good Samaritan wasn’t their guy.

“What does it say this time?” Ivory demanded, but Ronan could hear the nerves underneath her strong tone.

Seth hesitated and Ronan knew it must be bad. He stood next to Ivory, placing his hand on her right shoulder. Vaughn mirrored his actions on her left side. He gave a small nod, indicating Seth should show her. It was their job to protect her but not to shield her – no matter how much they wanted to. Seth handed the envelope over and Ivory opened it up, shrugging out of their grip. All Ronan had been able to make out was that there were multiple pieces of paper enclosed.

Ivory let out a thin whine, dropping the envelope and scattering its contents all over her beautiful mahogany table. She dashed from the room and he heard the slam of the bathroom door before obvious sounds of retching reached his ears. Bending down, he picked up the images and instantly felt his canines extend and his claws explode from his fingertips.

“I’m going to kill him. When we find this fucker, he’s dead,” he snarled.

***

Ivory had spent a good ten minutes emptying the contents of her stomach. Her delicious meal of spaghetti bolognese and her new favourite dessert hadn’t tasted so good coming back up. The men had knocked on the door, asking if she was okay and could they come in. She had managed to garble a bunch of unintelligible words and lock the main bathroom door, before sliding down onto the tile and allowing herself to have a decent crying jag. Blessedly, they had let her be but not before assuring her they were finding and removing the cameras.

The cameras. She firmed her jaw again when more tears threatened to spill. She had never felt so exposed or violated in her whole life. The envelope had held multiple photos of her in her own en-suite bathroom. She was naked in every one of them – in the shower, brushing her teeth, lathering body lotion over herself. That was violation enough but what had dinner rushing up her oesophagus had been what had been done to the photos. In each and every one, there had been scratches, cuts, hacks, or lewd scribbles over her breasts and genitals. Whoever was stalking her had metaphorically mutilated her. What had started out as someone wanting a harmless date, had now devolved into someone wanting to maim her sexually.

She was in a state of shock. Who could possibly hate her that much? Or, what was worse; who could believe they loved her that much? For this much sexual rage had to stem from that fine line between love and hate.

“Ivory …” Seth’s voice reached her ears through the wooden door despite the tentative quality of it.

She scrubbed shaking hands over her face, refusing to look in the mirror and see how much of a wreck she looked like; her fair skin did not react well to tears. She opened the door to find all three of them standing on the threshold. She couldn’t look them in the eye yet though. They had all seen those photos and she felt absolutely humiliated.

“How many did you find?” she asked, knowing there must have been more than one because the photos had portrayed her from multiple angles.

“Two in the en-suite; one in the shower cubicle, one above the sink. There was also one above your bed,” Vaughn sounded like he was chewing on gravel. His voice was so low and so gruff she could barely understand him.

Looking around she saw identical expressions of rage on Seth and Ronan’s faces as well. She figured when her three bodyguards got their hands on the sick fucker doing this, he would be a dead man within seconds.

“We’re so sorry, Ivory. We know it’s unforgivable of us but –”

“Wait, what are you talking about?”What could they possibly have to be sorry for?

“When we arrived, we swept your place for bugs and anything that gave off an electrical charge. There was no sign of anything like that. But they must have already been in place. The three cameras we found were small and sophisticated. They ran on a timer or an external remote rather than being turned on all the time. It’s why we missed them. But that’s no excuse. We are so sorry,” Ronan explained, looking like someone had kicked him in the nuts. He looked positively green.

“Stop, Ronan. This isn’t on you guys. I don’t want to hear that kind of crap. There’s one person who is to blame for all this. It’s that sick –” she broke off, her breath hitching, “He’s been in my house. How could I not have known? And did you see what he did to me? He cut into –” Her words dropped off again, as panic climbed up into her throat, cutting off her airways.

Immediately and as one, the three men surrounded her, closing in from all sides, a solid wall of warmth and muscles. She let herself just lean, knowing they would support her. The thought of some stranger watching her in her bedroom – in her shower – made her feel sick. She trembled a little and felt multiple sets of hands pat at her in comfort. Multiple voices murmured nonsense words in order to soothe. Thank goodness she had them, she thought. Thank goodness they were here to protect her and make her strong, and …

Ivory stiffened at her inner monologue as much as her fearful actions. Since when did she tremble? Since when did she need a man, let alone three, to make her strong? This man, this stranger, had made her weak – made her soft. Her mother had raised her to be a strong, independent woman. Sure, she had taught her to know her weaknesses, but also to never give in to them. She had told her to rise above her weaknesses, to fight them and to turn them into strengths. She had built her business from the ground up. She had renovated her home from installing the toilet to painting the ceilings.

She was capable. She was strong. She was a frigging witch, for god’s sake! And she had allowed some nameless, faceless bastard to make her feel vulnerable – make her question herself like never before. Six months ago, if a pack of gorgeous men had invited her into their bed, she would have skipped into it singingJoy to the World. But now? She was over-thinking, making excuses, doubting herself. They knew she was keeping secrets but these men still trusted her, still wanted her. She was the one not trusting them. She was the one with the doubts and the insecurities. It made her hate her anonymous stalker even more. She had made a good start by flirting and allowing Vaughn and Ronan to kiss her senseless earlier, but she wanted more.

With her fear falling away and righteous anger taking its place, she decided it was time to stop being a puppet and turn her weakness into strength.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“It’s okay, Ivory. We won’t let anyone hurt you,” Ronan’s voice assured her. So, it was Ronan directly in front of her then. A comforting hand ran down her back and she recognised it by the size – that was Seth behind her. That meant the muscled arm wrapped tightly around her waist from the side must belong to Vaughn. Opening her eyes and peering up, she saw Ronan’s eyes were full of concern and anger … but also desire. It was always there, like a low simmer, bubbling away in the background. Well, it was time to bring that simmer to a boil.

She gave a hard tug on the fabric currently bunched in her hands and stole a kiss full of passion and want as soon as Ronan’s lips were within touching distance. She heard a moan – wanton and needy – and knew the aching sound had come from her. Ronan kissed her back feverishly as hands other than his own roamed up her sides before cupping her breasts. She pulled back, only so she could moan some more and push herself more fully into the large palms that were igniting her inner flames. Her head fell back, landing on Seth’s broad chest as he continued to shape and mold, plucking at her now-hard nipples every few seconds. She felt his lips against her neck and couldn’t contain the shiver that slid over her body when he tugged a sensitive earlobe into his mouth playfully.

Hands on her hips had her refocusing and she saw that Vaughn had now moved in front of her, eyes shining like emeralds. His head lowered to capture her mouth even as he shoved a muscled thigh between her legs, encouraging her to move.Yes, friction, she thought giddily, eagerly moving her hips in time with his urging hands. She had felt herself growing damp the second Ronan’s lips had touched her own. Now with Seth’s at her neck and Vaughn’s against hers as three sets of hands forged leisurely tracks over her body, she knew she could come from this alone. But she wanted more. She wanted flesh.

She slid her hands under Vaughn’s shirt, her palms heating immediately upon feeling the textured hardness of fine hairs over rigid muscle. She pushed the material upward only to be blocked when it bunched under his armpits, “Arms. Lift,” she demanded, and felt more than heard the rumble of laughter in Vaughn’s chest. All it served to do was draw her eyes back to the firm, tanned skin stretched so tightly over his abs, “Now, Vaughn,” she ordered again, when he failed to do as she bid.

Large hands captured her frenzied ones and she deigned to look up. Vaughn’s face was tight with passion … but also with control, “Ivory, wait,” he said and she had the absurd urge to growl at him. She didn’t want to wait. She had been waiting. She wanted her men and she wanted them now.

She shook her head, “More,” was all she said.

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