First Instinct [Diablo Falls] Page 3

  “Thank you for your help,” she said, pleased when she didn’t stutter.

  His golden eyes seemed to glow in the dim forest light. “You’re welcome. Can you drive?”

  “I th-think so.” She pushed herself onto her good foot, but before she could take another step, he’d scooped her up again.

  “Keys?”

  She dug awkwardly in her bag and retrieved them. He carried her to the driver’s side door and gently lowered her feet to the ground, maintaining one arm around her waist for support. She unlocked the car and opened the door, but instead of sitting, she turned and wrapped her arms around his neck. He’d saved her, but for all she knew, she’d never see him again and she wanted to do this before she lost her nerve. Raising herself on the toes of her good foot, she kissed him solidly on the mouth.

  Before she could pull away, he slid one hand up her back to cup her neck, keeping their lips together. The firm tip of his erection nudged her belly, drawing the butterflies in her stomach downward. He tasted so good, lips softer than she would’ve imagined. He moved them slowly against hers, sliding his tongue into her just once before pulling away.

  His response had been unexpected. And amazing. Confidence boosted, she let out a slow breath and opened her eyes. “W-would you like to come to dinner at my house? It’s the least I can do.”

  Wow, that had been a long sentence. More words than she usually strung together at once. And she’d barely stuttered at all.

  To her relief, he smiled with perhaps a tiny bit more teeth than most people showed, but his hands were a warm comfort on her hips. “I’d be delighted.”

  Flustered and excited, she plopped down in the driver’s seat and jabbed the key into the ignition. Her trusty Subaru started right up.

  He rested one forearm on the top of the open door, showing no inclination to step back and close it. Had she forgotten something? She met his gaze, and his eyes sparked with a feral desire that made her insides tighten.

  “I can probably track you down by the trail of catnip, but it would be much easier if you gave me your address, kitten.”

  Heat filled her face. She’d never had a pet name before, and he kept calling her kitten in a way that made her want to roll over and show him her belly. Or her naked pussy. Geez, the guy gave her a one-track mind. She stammered out directions and he nodded, closing the car door and stepping out of the way.

  As she bumped her way down the rutted road, she watched in the rearview mirror until he was hidden by brush. Then it hit her. What the hell did you feed a mountain lion for dinner?

  Chapter Seven

  Adrian watched the Subaru disappear and stood listening to the fading engine until he was certain Darcy’d reached the road. With the allure of catnip gone, he took a moment to reassess the emotions roiling through him. Mountain lions were reclusive, and he’d never imagined himself with a mate. Yet even with the effects of the drug fading, all he could think about was Darcy. Her kiss had surprised him, started a fire inside him that could only be quenched by her—preferably her warm wet pussy around his cock.

  Could a shifter even claim a witch? Interbreeding sometimes happened—his mountain lion was proof of that, and in high school he could recall several scandalous rumors of a young pack-mate getting caught making out with a vampire. But supernaturals generally kept to their own kind, and claiming a mate was far more serious than a high school crush. For the first time in a long time, he missed belonging to a pack, missed the glint in his oldest brother’s eyes when he’d shared naughty rumors with the younger siblings.

  But that had been before Adrian knew he was different. Before his feline had revealed itself and forced Adrian into solitude, unable to accept a pack-alpha’s bond. Now you want a mate?

  The mountain lion inside of him rumbled assent.

  Adrian could only shake his head. He loved a lot of things about his mountain lion, but its unpredictable nature was not one of them.

  Removing the clingy plastic poncho from around his waist, he tucked it into the box on his ATV and pulled out his spare uniform. He needed to retrieve his phone and rifle, then report the rogue’s death. The local bear shifters would want to investigate the body, and he wasn’t looking forward to their questions about the death.

  Starting up his ATV, he followed the trail back to the cliff and parked it before descending to where he’d shed his clothes. There was little left of his uniform, but he gathered his gate keys, phone, and rifle before investigating the corpse. The grizzly lay as he’d left it, sprawled in the dense shrubbery, brown furry throat matted with blood. The musky stink of the shifter was even worse after death, but there was also a note of something else, something Adrian couldn’t identify. Illness?

  Adrian felt a twinge of regret over the shifter; rogues usually had a sad story leading up to their descent into madness, often events beyond their control. He took several photos, making note of the distinguishing white patches of fur, one on the base of the bear’s skull and another just behind its left shoulder-blade. Both were over what a hunter would consider kill spots, as if the bear had been marked for death. Odd. Hopefully the marks would help the shifter’s den-mates identify the body quickly and provide closure for loved ones.

  Out of respect, he placed a few broken shrubs over the body to conceal it from prying eyes and headed back toward the ridge. As he reached the base, he noticed a prickly stand of wild ginseng not too far away. Wasn’t that what Darcy’d been gathering? He didn’t recall seeing or smelling any herbs on her except the catnip. She might appreciate a few roots if she hadn’t managed to gather any.

  Glancing around to be sure no one was nearby, he shimmied out of his clothing and shifted, using his claws to make short work of the rocky soil around the plant. After several roots had been exposed, he shifted back and dressed before yanking them free and climbing up to his waiting ATV.

  Back at his cabin, he called Randall and gave him directions to the grizzly. “We don’t need to file an extermination report with the Forest Service,” he added. “There were no bullets involved. Just tell the Den to come claim their dead.”

  A beat of silence. “What the hell, Adrian? You took on a grizzly while shifted?”

  Adrian didn’t want to mention Darcy. Something made him want to keep her to himself. “I got the drop on him while he was attempting another kill.”

  “Well, that was fortunate, but it will raise a lot of questions with the Den. They’ll want an inquisition.”

  An inquisition meant he’d have to show up at the Den’s meeting hall in town and answer questions, which he hated, but right now, he barely cared. All he wanted to do was hang up so he could get ready for dinner with Darcy. Just thinking about seeing her again made his feline purr. He’d never been on a date, and he didn’t want to mess this up. “The rogue had some strange markings that might make it easier to identify him. I’m forwarding you some photos.”

  He could almost hear Randall frown over the phone, wondering why his surly ranger was being so agreeable. “All right. Good job, by the way.”

  Adrian grunted and hung up, then went out back to the stream behind the cabin to scrub.

  Chapter Eight

  Darcy stopped by the grocery to pick up steaks for dinner. Men and mountain lions were both bound to like a good cut of meat, right?

  She never would’ve imagined someone as hot as Adrian would agree to a date with her, or that he’d be so obviously attracted to her. The erection he’d sported the entire time they’d been together couldn’t be denied—he’d even joked about it, which she found remarkably endearing. He was a shifter, part animal, part man, yet she felt safe with him. The way he looked at her made her feel special, like he might not risk his life that way for just anyone. Plus, he rescued me from a bear!

  She kept thinking about the way his golden-eyed gaze made her squirm, the way his mouth had felt when she’d kissed him, and the strong length of his erection against her belly. If it hadn’t been for his response to her kiss, she might’ve imagined this date was a pity date. But his desire for her had been real. She’d been so busy studying for the coven, she hadn’t had a date in almost a year, and anticipation for tonight kept making her smile.

  Hobbling down the cosmetics aisle to buy a new tube of mascara for tonight, she spotted a woman in a billowy blouse with a long auburn braid. Aunt Willow. Her smile died. Darcy’d been seventeen when Mom died, and Aunt Willow had stepped in as a surrogate, teaching her about witchcraft and attempting to correct her stutter. But neither magic nor physical therapy had helped. Darcy definitely didn’t want to get caught up in conversation with her aunt right now, but before she could duck around the corner, Willow spotted her.

  “Darcy? What happened to you?” Her gaze darted to Darcy’s bandaged foot. “Are you injured?”

  “J-just s-sprained.” Only two words, but she stuttered them both. Talking to Aunt Willow always seemed to make the problem worse.

  Her aunt advanced, pursing her lips in disapproval and glancing around. She waited until a tall, broadly-built woman passed, then said, “Well, it’s nothing a little spell won’t fix.”

  Before Darcy could argue, her aunt leaned over and brushed her fingertips over the bandage, speaking some barely audible words. The pain in Darcy’s ankle turned to ice, then disappeared as if it had never been there.

  Standing upright once more, Aunt Willow crossed her arms over her ample bosom. “There. Quite simple.”

  Darcy’s throat tightened at the subtext—that she simply lacked the willpower to succeed. “Th-thank you.”

  “You look like you’ve been rolling around at the zoo.” Aunt Willow’s red manicured fingernails snatched a bit of moss from Darcy’s hair. “And you smell like you fell in a vat of horse liniment. No wonder the coven is on the
fence about you.”

  Nausea filled Darcy’s belly. “Why?”

  “I assured them you won’t follow in your mother’s footsteps.”

  Mom had been a coven member during her early years, but had left Diablo Falls and divorced herself from her fellow witches before Darcy was born. Darcy didn’t know why Mom left, and no one would talk about it. She hadn’t met her aunt until the funeral.

  Willow leaned closer, glancing over her shoulder to be certain no one was in earshot. “But when you show up in public like this, you make me look like a liar.”

  Heat filled Darcy’s face and she stammered out an apology before snatching the nearest mascara from its peg and fleeing. Her aunt was determined to restore the family’s reputation by getting Darcy into the coven, and Darcy was terrified she’d let her down. You still have time to make the potion, she told herself as she drove home, rain pounding hard against her windshield. But she’d have to venture into the forest again tomorrow with a real shovel to find some ginseng.

  Think about that later. Evening was coming, and she couldn’t search for ginseng in the dark. She’d start again fresh tomorrow.

  She parked on the street outside her fourplex and bolted up the stairs to her second level unit, heading straight to the shower and lathering herself twice to remove all traces of spilled insect repellant. Her encounter with her aunt had her on edge, and she couldn’t shake the negative energy, so she did a quick sage smudge around the apartment.

  Feeling slightly better, she seasoned the steaks and put them in the fridge, then scrubbed a couple of potatoes and tossed a salad.

  Sunset dimmed the cloud-covered sky as she stepped onto her small balcony porch to make sure she had enough propane for her tabletop grill. She pruned her potted herbs, hanging the sprigs on the rungs of a drying rack that took up the other side of her porch. Someday, she wanted to have a house with a garden and a shed to dry her herbs, but for now, her porch worked. Running a frond of rosemary beneath her nose, she decided to use some for the steaks.

  The rumble of an engine drew her attention to the parking lot as a dark green Ford pickup rolled into view. Adrian? He parked several spaces from her Subaru and stepped out of the truck, looking handsome and well-groomed, broad shoulders straining ever so slightly against the white button-down shirt. He’d been gorgeous when naked, but Goddess, he rocked the clothing look, too.

  Holding something in one hand, he prowled toward the stairs. At the bottom, he seemed to sense her gaze and looked up. “Hello, kitten.”

  She loved the pet name, and the way his eyes reflected the light from outside, making him seem dangerous and sexy. “C-come on up.”

  He nodded and moved out of sight into the stairwell.

  She hurried into the bathroom one last time to check her hair and face. Her strawberry blonde hair no longer looked like a frayed broomstick, and her new mascara made her pale lashes pop. She smoothed on a fresh layer of lipstick and gave herself a spritz of jasmine body spray before she opened the door.

  He was already there and thrust a plastic grocery bag toward her.

  She accepted it and peered inside. Two perfectly gnarled roots lay twined together. She let out an awed breath. “Ginseng?”

  “My mountain lion wanted to bring you a dead rabbit.” He leaned one shoulder against the doorframe. “I thought you might appreciate this more.”

  She hugged the roots to her chest. Goddess, this guy is too good to be true. Now she could focus on making the potion instead of spending tomorrow wandering around the forest. “You just saved my ass again. Thank you.”

  He ran his index finger along her cheek. “Next time you want to go walking in the woods, give me a call. I’ll give you an escort.”

  The fluttering in her stomach intensified. “I b-bet you say that to all the girls.”

  His eyes glowed in the sunset coming through her balcony door. “I don’t talk to other girls.”

  Feeling light and warm, she carried the roots to her kitchen. “Do you want wine?”

  A tiny smile flitted across his mouth and he tilted his head. “No catnip?”

  Her insides fluttered with uncertainty. “D-do you want catnip?”

  He grinned and shook his head. “I’m only teasing. Wine would be great.”

  God, he was stunning when he smiled. She could barely catch her breath as her stomach flip-flopped. Glad to have something else to focus on, she poured two glasses and handed him one.

  He took a sip and glanced toward the open balcony. “Your neighborhood seems nice and peaceful.”

  “Yes.” She dampened some paper towels and wrapped the ginseng before placing it into her crisper drawer. Tomorrow, she’d make the potion. But tonight, she was going to thank this hunky ranger for his help, even if it meant making small talk. “D-do you live here in town?”

  “No, I live in the ranger cabin near Devil’s Crown trailhead.”

  “Do a lot of mountain lions live up there?”

  A sardonic smile curled his lip. “I’m the only one I know of.”

  “Oh.” She frowned. “I thought shifters had packs.”

  Adrian’s smile transformed into a fanged grimace. “Packs are for wolves.”

  Startled at the scary transformation, she sucked in a breath. “S-sorry.”

  His face softened and he sighed. “My parents are werewolves.”

  She gaped. “But you’re… How’d that happen?”

  “If a bloodline is impure—if it has another shifter type in its ancestry—a different shifter type can be produced. The mountain lion form is recessive. The pack didn’t want me.”

  “They rejected you?” she asked softly, knowing exactly how he felt.

  He licked his lips and looked into his glass. “It’s for the best. Mountain lions prefer solitude.”

  Darcy took a deep gulp of wine. “But you’re here. With me.”

  He lifted his chin. “You’re… different.”

  Usually to her, different meant bad, but he made it seem like a good thing. “I’m n-not really a witch. That’s why I need the potion.”

  He canted his head. “What do you mean?”

  Closing her eyes and picturing the words before she spoke, she said, “The c-coven only takes apprentices who can pass their tests. My stutter ruins my spells. The p-potion will cure it.” Goddess, she hoped that was true. “At least long enough to p-pass the tests.”

  “But isn’t the potion itself magic? Seems like that should be proof enough.”

  She shook her head. “They have specific metrics.”

  “And what will joining the coven give you?”

  “M-mentors. My aunt is a member.”

  “You mean teachers?” He raised his eyebrows. “Can’t your aunt just teach you?”

  “She tried. But m-my stutter…” she trailed off, waving one hand as if that explained everything.

  Adrian raised a brow and nodded. His gaze on her remained steady, not like he expected her to speak, but as if he understood. He wasn’t finishing her sentence for her, just listening and letting her set the pace. She wasn’t certain if that gave her more confidence or less.

  Uncomfortable with the turn of conversation, she retrieved the steaks from the fridge. “Do you like b-bar-b-be—” She took a steadying breath. “Barbecue?”

  He nodded once. “Rare, please.”

  Of course he wants rare. Smiling, she carried the steaks toward the balcony.

  Chapter Nine

  Adrian followed Darcy onto the balcony, admiring the sway of her ass in her jeans and the way her green tee shirt hugged her curves. She said she wasn’t a witch, but she’d certainly bewitched him. The coven’s tests weren’t fair if they would penalize her for stuttering.

  Out on the balcony, the sounds and smells of the town were almost overwhelming. The unit next door had a baseball game on the television, and somewhere nearby a peach pie had just come out of the oven. Some parts of Adrian missed being part of a community, but his mountain lion would never put up with having people this close all the time.

  Darcy’s deliciously floral scent helped ground him amidst the whirlwind of sensory input from the surrounding town. He set his wine glass on the table next to her tiny grill and moved in close behind her while she adjusted the flame to preheat the grill.