Nine Inches of Snow and the Ebony Princess (3 page)

Nine Inches of Snow and the Ebony Princess

19

Was it possible he knew where the girl lived? That one of those meddling guests or hospital staff members told him? She knew how those nurses and orderlies all stuck together, and Aziza had ingratiated herself with each and every one of them, even the egomaniacal doctors, with that bubbly personality and easy smile of hers.

Was that all it took to lure a man like David Healey nowadays?

No matter. Aziza would only have him over Philomena’s dead body. Or David’s.

She started her Benz and slowly followed him, trailing at a good distance and waiting as he got several blocks from the hospital for the right moment to strike, until she was sure of his destination.

She would repay him for his insult.

When David stepped off the snow-encrusted curb onto the damp blacktop, Philomena revved her engine and careened towards him.

She saw the look of shock on his face, emphasized by her headlights and instantly replaced with a look of recognition.

No matter. He would not live to tell.

Philomena’s heart pounded with excitement when she plowed her car into him. She heard the satisfying thud of his body when it flew into the air, skidded across her hood, up and over the roof, bouncing off the trunk and onto the pavement behind her as she sped away.

That would show him she was not to be toyed with.

* * * *

“Someone call 911!”

“Did you see that? The car just ran right over him and didn’t even slow down!”

“Is he dead? He has to be after that.”

20

Gracie C. McKeever

“Did anyone get the license plate?”

David saw and heard everything clearly—the people hovering over his body, their words of concern and cries for help. He just could not respond.

He was trying to figure out whether or not this was a bad thing when he realized he was in wolf form and outside of his body.

Oh, fuck.

Something had gone wrong, something he’d never encountered or heard of before.

He’d started to shift when he saw the car coming at him and recognized Philomena behind the wheel. It was a natural reaction, his body instinctively changing to another form to avoid maximum damage, or at least trying to change. She’d come at him so fast, it was a wonder he’d had time to react at all. It was a wonder, too, that he’d seen her face. But he had. There’d been no mistaking that long, platinum blonde hair or hateful green-eyed glare.

She’d meant to kill him.

David trotted over to his body to see if she’d succeeded, nuzzling his neck and releasing a howl at the non-response. He gaped up at the spectators and realized when none of them reacted to his presence that they couldn’t see or hear him.

Double fuck.

Either he was dead, or he wasn’t. Either he was wolf, or he was man. He couldn’t be both, could he? David had never heard of a split or bilocation of this nature. He needed to get to his father or grandfather to find out what was going on.

Would either of them be able to hear or see him any better than the spectators could?

He glanced up at the nearby apartment building, drawn to his original destination, the question momentarily moot. Something beckoned him. Some
one
.

Aziza was close. He could feel her.

Nine Inches of Snow and the Ebony Princess

21

David stepped back when an ambulance sped to a stop outside the circle of spectators and parked. The surrounding crowd opened their ranks to make room for the two EMS technicians who rushed to his body with a stretcher and other equipment. He stayed with his body for the several minutes it took them to stabilize and prepare him for transport and watched them head back to the hospital, sirens wailing and red lights flashing in the night.

David eyed the back of the departing ambulance longingly, torn between following or going to his new mate.

He chose his mate.

* * * *

Aziza jerked awake in her favorite corner of the sofa. The textbook she’d buried her nose in when she drifted asleep fell to the floor with a thwack. She wondered what had startled her out of her sleep until she spotted the large timber wolf standing on the threshold of her living room, staring at her.

He had azure eyes! Not that she was an expert in such things, but she had never heard of this in a wolf before, especially not so human a shade, so human an expression.

She wasn’t sure how she knew the animal was a wolf and not a big dog or a coyote. There was just something too majestic and extraordinary about him to be either of those.

Where had he come from, and how in God’s name had he gotten into her apartment?

Aziza shook herself, wondering whether she had conjured him from her subconscious and not that she was still asleep and dreaming or going crazy.

She had a second to question the vision and release a small yelp when the animal slowly advanced, paws surprisingly silent against her polished wood floor.

Don’t be afraid. I’m not here to hurt you.

22

Gracie C. McKeever

She froze and gaped at the animal.

I came to warn you. Watch your back. Your stepmother is on
the warpath.

“No shit.”

She immediately heard a familiar deep chuckle at this and peered when the wolf came closer.

Aziza assured herself none of this was real—the wolf was just a manifestation of her longings, an animalistic symbol of her wildest desires—even as she reached out a hand to touch him, strangely unafraid.

She expected to encounter the softness of his dense-looking pelt, palm tingling right before her hand went straight through the animal.

Aziza wondered whether she was surprised or relieved.

It’s all right to be both.

“Reading my mind now?”
And why should that be so shocking,
since you’re talking to an imaginary wolf and expecting an
answer!

I only catch what you project.

“So if I don’t project, you won’t know what I’m thinking?”

Correct.

It would be tricky, but she could do it. For self-preservation, she had learned how to close off her mind and feelings a long time ago. She would have never made it out of her childhood sane had she not learned to control her empathy, rather than letting it control her.

Helping the staff at the hospice with her mother as a teen had been her first true test, teaching her how to soothe and send healing vibes instead of just receiving indiscriminate and unwanted signals of pain and grief from strangers.

She hadn’t been able to save her mother, but she had at least been able to ease her suffering towards the end.

I’m sorry she’s gone.

Nine Inches of Snow and the Ebony Princess

23

At the wolf’s thoughts, Aziza realized she was crying and angrily swiped at the tears on her face with the back of her hand.

It’s all right to miss her. It doesn’t make you weak.

She knew this. She just hadn’t cried, and certainly not in front of anyone, in a long time. It had been her job to be the strong one, to take care of her father. And she had been doing a good job of it before Philomena came along.

There was nothing more you could have done.

He was wrong, despite his mythical, all-knowing tone. She could have been there for him more instead of focusing so hard on going away to study and giving him his space. She’d left the door wide open for the rift once Philomena married her father. At that point, he had been susceptible to believing anything his young, loving wife told him. Even that his daughter wanted and needed to get away and be on her own, financially and socially independent of her father.

Aziza felt moistness on the back of her hand and glanced down to see the wolf licking the back of her hand from wrist to knuckles.

Her eyes widened.

Good. You felt that. That means I…I’m real.

“Apparently more real than I gave you credit for.”

You don’t fear me.

She smiled at the wonder in his tone, knew how he felt. “No,”

she admitted. She had been afraid initially, but not anymore. He was a part of her, her subconscious come to life. She could no more fear him than she could fear herself.

I’m not just your subconscious.

He turned to leave before Aziza could question him. She leaped from the sofa to follow him, sliding to a stop several feet from the front door when he pivoted and aimed those haunting blue eyes at her.

We’ll see each other again soon, Aziza. I promise.

24

Gracie C. McKeever

She nodded, body tingling with anticipation at the prospect, like she had just agreed to a date...a date with a figment of her imagination that claimed he wasn’t!

Nine Inches of Snow and the Ebony Princess

25

She was more beautiful than he remembered, even sleep-tousled and clad in ripped, faded blue jeans and a white midriff-baring T-shirt. She was, in fact, more alluring and regal in worn clothes or a waitress uniform than all the rich and powerful matrons had looked at the fundraiser draped in designer gowns and dripping in priceless jewels.

Aziza had courage and understated nobility the likes of which the fake-boobed, heartless Philomena VanWizer and her ilk could never realize, no matter how hard they strove or how much money they acquired.

David had wanted to hold Aziza so bad, feel her soft and pliant in his arms, the sensation was a physical ache in his front legs.

Even now, when he made his way down the stairs and out of her apartment building, his tongue throbbed with a memory of her taste. He wondered what it would be like to fully sample her, bury his face between her legs, feast on her pussy, and sate them both as he brought her to orgasm with his tongue.

Christ, he was horny!

What he really needed to concern himself with was in what kind of condition he had survived the collision.

David jogged in the direction of St. Frances, anxious now to see how he was faring.

Once he made it back to the hospital and didn’t see any doctors frantically working on him in any of the treatment areas in the emergency room, he assumed he had already been transferred up to intensive care. Either that, or he was already dead.

26

Gracie C. McKeever

Refusing to believe the latter, David headed up to ICU where, relieved, he found his family milling around en masse.

His father had an arm around his mother in a consoling gesture.

Grampa stood nearby, assuring them both that David was a fighter and would pull through this just fine. All four of his older brothers—Richard, Thomas, Peter, and Matthew—sat or stood by in varying stages of dress, formal bow ties either undone or completely off, and tuxedo jackets flung over shoulders or across the back of the waiting room’s available chairs.

David didn’t know how long he had been at Aziza’s, time so meaningless on this plane, but he thought it had to have been long enough for him to be stabilized in the emergency room, then brought up to surgery and ICU.

Was
he stable, or were the doctors delaying the inevitable in informing his family he had not made it?

Wouldn’t he know one way or the other? Even if he was a ghost in animal form, wouldn’t he
feel
it if his human body had slipped away?

David barked two times in quick succession, trying to get someone’s attention, but no one flinched—not even his brother Matthew, whom out of all his brothers, he had the closest bond.

How was he supposed to find out how to get back into his body and wake up if he couldn’t communicate?

David refused to feel sorry for himself. First, it was behavior too unbecoming of a Healey, and second, he would never hear the end of it from his Grampa. He couldn’t help, however, feeling regret at being snatched away from Aziza and deprived of spending quality time with her when he had only just met her.

He glanced up at his Grampa and loudly howled.

His grandfather glanced in his direction, frowning at the same time that Peter sneezed and pulled a handkerchief from his jacket pocket to blow his nose.

“Did anyone hear that?” Grampa asked.

Nine Inches of Snow and the Ebony Princess

27

“I think the entire floor heard that sneeze,” Richard grumbled.

Matthew finally woke from his doze and asked, “Hear what?

Did the doctor come out with word about David yet?”

“Between, grumpy, sneezy and sleepy…” Thomas chuckled and shook his head at his younger brothers.

“And who does that make you?” Richard asked and Thomas playfully brandished a fist.

“It makes me the oldest brother with rights to clobber you accordingly.” He arched a brow at his still-drowsy brother Matthew. “Another late night?”

“I can’t help it if I’m popular.” Matthew gave him a wolfish grin and shrugged.

Thomas pointed his chin at Peter. “What about you? I don’t see any furry creatures or vegetation in the vicinity.”

“It’s the damnedest thing. My sinuses all of a sudden feel like they’re under attack.”

“I think you’re allergic to yourself, Pete. Have been since you were a pup,” Richard muttered, and his brothers laughed, even Peter.

“This is different. I know it sounds weird, but there’s an animal nearby. A big one.”

David’s heart sped at his family’s reactions. It was obvious they sensed him on some level. The problem was to up the level and make them clearly hear and see him, not just vaguely sense him.

“Shh. The doctor’s coming,” his mother said, and though no one appeared in the room for several long seconds, David didn’t doubt someone was on the way.

A minute later, a doctor came in from the hall, pausing on the threshold as he took in the Healey clan one at a time before making his way to David’s parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Healey?”

“Yes,” they chorused.

28

Gracie C. McKeever

His mother pulled out of his father’s arms to confront the doctor as David’s brothers and Grampa converged and presented a united front.