Enchanted By The Wolf. Michele Hauf
and attributes to the sidhe lines. But vampires were shunned. Filthy longtooths. They were nothing but scum who liked to feed on faery ichor as their favorite drug. They were disliked almost as much as demons. A half-breed sidhe demon was labeled The Wicked and was the lowest of the low. So she did have that going for her.
“Not quite the dregs of the barrel, are you, Bea?”
She decided her father had had the affair with her mother for the reason she must have been forbidden fruit. Something lesser than Malrick. Dark and forbidden. He’d wanted to try her out. And he’d never let Bea forget that.
But in the mortal realm vampires must hold a certain status. Bea hoped so. Because she was done with the shame and ostracism. She wanted to shine, to grow and finally become the fierce woman with wings and fangs that had been stifled in Faery.
“So long as the hubby doesn’t get in my way, I’ll be golden.”
Winking at her reflection, she rummaged through the vanity drawer and found Kir’s comb. She hadn’t been allowed to bring any of her things to this realm. The comb was not like the crystal prize she’d once owned, but it smelled like him. Woodsy and wild. It would serve until she could go shopping. But to do that she needed mortal money. Of which, she hoped the hubby had a lot.
Her übersexy hubby who really knew how to get right to the point concerning orgasms.
“I hate him so much I can’t wait until he gets home.”
Tossing the comb onto the vanity and skipping down the stairs, she decided to explore, as Kir had suggested. It felt great to walk around skyclad, wings unfurled. She didn’t mind the narrow hallway that bent back her wings as she strode into the kitchen.
The note on the counter detailed a phone number and was signed “Kir.”
“Like he thinks I won’t guess who the note was from? Silly wolf.” Though she traced a finger over the name and lifted the paper to give it a quick kiss. “My hubby.”
Tiptoeing about the vast stone-tiled kitchen, she ran her fingers over the granite countertop, not sensing the energy that she normally felt from stones. But the fieldstones paving the kitchen floor were alive, which lightened her steps as she spun and traced her fingers across the glossy stovetop and the sink. No iron here!
At the icebox, she flung open the door and peered inside. Lots of clear plastic bottles holding energy drinks in various pale colors. Fruits and vegetables. “Go, wolf.” And meat. Sliced, chopped, chunked, shredded and cut. “Blech. My hubby likes to eat things that once had a heartbeat. Bad wolf.” She’d married a carnivore. That would be a new one to deal with.
On the other hand, she couldn’t claim complete vegetarianism. Now that she was in the mortal realm, she’d get the opportunity to feast on mortal blood. And that had a heartbeat. Getting a sip of wolf last night had been like popping her red-blood cherry. Blessed be, he’d tasted good.
And she wanted more.
Plucking out a vine of green grapes, Bea danced through the kitchen and into the next room, which was a cozy living area walled on two sides with books and carpeted in what looked like ancient tapestry. Deeply varnished wood and curvaceous carvings gave the room a medieval appeal. It felt solid and earthy.
“Just like my wolf.”
Sitting on the back of the big leather couch, she tilted back her head and nibbled the grapes from the vine. Toppling, she laughed as her feet went over her head and she tumbled off the sofa and onto the floor. She upset the books stacked on the coffee table, and one landed on a wing.
“Ouch.” She pulled up the heavy book and read the title, Exotic Fantasy Figures.
Inside were gorgeous colored plates featuring fantastical creatures that she felt sure did not exist in the mortal realm or Faery. Though a few depictions were close to some of the sidhe she’d known. The text said they’d been created using a computer. She wasn’t familiar with mortal technology but had learned about computers during her mortal realm lessons. The devices were carriers of information.
She needed to get her fingers all over one of those computers if she was going to track down her mother.
Flinging aside the book to land splayed open, she sprang up and skipped to the floor-to-ceiling window and pressed her nose to the glass. Outside lay a small yard with browning grass and some pitiful flowers.
Bea’s smile wilted. “Poor grass. I’ll have to give you some tender loving care.”
A shed stood at what she guessed was the back of Kir’s property.
“Doesn’t own much land. Hmm...let’s hope that means he put all his money in gold, because this girl needs to do some shopping.”
Popping another grape into her mouth, she twirled and flung out her arms, delighting in the warm sun that shone through the window. She only stopped her dance when she felt the odd sensation that she was not alone.
Standing in the archway between living room and kitchen was her new husband, his mouth hanging open and hands to his hips.
* * *
“What?” Bea pulled a wingtip forward and preened it over her shoulder. “Close your mouth, big boy. You act like you’ve never seen a naked faery before.”
Kir’s astonishment dropped and his eyes crinkled. The man’s gentle laughter scurried over her naked skin like warm summer rain. And she did love to dance in the rain.
“I have some work in the area, so I stopped in to see if you’re doing okay. I guess you are.”
“Peachy! Your shower rocks!”
“It does.” He walked in and picked up the book she’d tossed on the floor, carefully placing it back on the table. “Let me guess. You need clothes.”
“Why?” She propped her hands akimbo. “You got a problem with naked faeries?”
“Uh. No. I don’t think I do.”
His eyes took her in from feet to knees to loins, and up where he lingered at her breasts. Bea felt his desire follow that warm rain like delicious sun. Mmm, come here, hungry wolf.
“But all creatures wear clothing in the mortal realm,” he said. “So. You need clothes.”
“And combs and jewelry, shoes and purses. Makeup. Perfumes. All that girl stuff. And to get that I’m going to need some mortal cash. Please tell me you have bajillions of the stuff.”
“Bajillions?” Another soft chuckle. “Sorry to disappoint.”
Bea’s shoulders sank, as did her wings.
“But I am comfortable, as they say. You won’t starve or be forced to live in a cardboard box anytime soon. I promise.”
A cardboard box? Did mortals do that? Bea shivered. She’d once had an aunt who would curl up to live in a crustacean shell. Ugh.
“What’s your job?” she asked. “Brit said something about you being an enforcer. Is that like a wolf cop?”
“In essence. Our pack polices the werewolf packs in Paris. Keeps an eye on them. Investigates the blood games and tries to ensure that no wolf makes the front page of Le Monde. That’s the local world newspaper.”
“Cool. So when do you have to guard the portal to Faery?”
“Not sure. Etienne, my pack principal, suggested I probably would not, since I’ve already gotten—”
“The short stick. I remember. You’ve sacrificed so much for your pack. Taking on a wife who is actually interested in having sex with you whenever you desire? Whew! That is so tough. I shed tears of pity for you, wolf.”
“Whenever I desire?” The wolf’s eyes twinkled. Actually twinkled.
“Pretty much.” She fluttered her wings.
“I