Cursed To Death

“I could do that,” Clarissa said, gaining confidence as the concept sank in. “In fact, I could fuse my consciousness with Silver Hawk’s before I went in as a guide with Bear and Crow. His wisdom in there would be invaluable.”

He smiled and let out a deep breath. “Yes! I love it when it begins to come together-finding the solution. At least part of it. I’ll start working on how they bewitched the Fae fortress after a few hours of shut-eye… Yeah, you’re right, I am tired, but the coffee is kicking my behind. Tomorrow we have to get to the occult shops to get iron bullets, handcuffs, iron rods, and to see of they have a stock of rowan and herbs.” When she didn’t comment, smile, or blink, his enthusiasm ebbed. “What?”

“Your mind,” she said softly, going to him, “is so beautiful that I am at a loss for words.”

Sasha watched her clothes and boots drop into the hamper and disappear. Standing naked and dirty in the middle of the floor, there was nothing to do but take a bath. Common sense told her that the light-headed feeling of peacefulness was nothing more than faux Fae euphoria. But knowing that all was well and her guys were safe, she didn’t fight it. A hot tub filled with rose petals and sweetly scented bubbles was calling her name.

She crossed the room and slipped behind the privacy screen, testing the water temperature with her hands. Perfect. What else had she expected? Sasha giggled and then splashed her face with a little of the water, then released a light moan. Even the water was bewitched. The scent of roses and something she couldn’t define, but was heavenly, filled her nose. Her skin drank in the ultra-soft wetness… the water didn’t feel like water. It was as though any harsh minerals and iron had been removed from it…

Then she laughed out loud. “Of course! No iron in the limestone, blimey! This is a Fae house, what were ye thinkin’, lassie?”

Sasha pirouetted, laughing, and grabbed a huge, fluffy white towel and sank her face into it. The moment she did, it felt like each strand of terry was massaging her skin as though they were teeny, tiny starfish cilia. The floral scent was so divine it made her heady. Weaving slightly, she abandoned the towel on a white cushioned bench and stepped into the water. Tendrils of pleasure rushed up her legs, drawing her entire body down into the endless bath.

It felt so good that she couldn’t even grip the sides of the tub to keep from drowning. She just began to slide and kept on sliding until she was fully submerged, hair and all. Then the supernatural buoyancy of the water pushed her to the surface again so she could breathe.

“Oh, my, God…” Sasha came up and this time held on, albeit with her eyes closed. “You guys sure know how to treat a lady, yes, siree.” Her muscles were so relaxed that she could barely extend her arm to reach for the soap, and when she did a creamy confection filled her palms and made them tingle. “Dude… stop,” she said, laughing, but applying the buttery-smooth lather to her body.

A quiet moan escaped her as she lathered her hair, and every ache from hitting a brick wall and fighting rogue Werewolves vanished under her fingertips. Every cut and bruise on her healed and sealed. Her spine felt like every disc in it had been replaced by jelly. She could barely sit up long enough to rinse. But the bed was calling her name and hunger was clawing at her.

She dunked under the water again, marveling at how the bath was a tub on the outside, but the moment she submerged it looked like a vast, fresh-water Caribbean sea. She stretched out her arms and legs, swam a few feet, and then came back to the light portal that was the obvious surface where she could get out.

“How freaking cool is that!” she shouted, tickled by the discovery and looking down to the bottomless tub. Then, testing it, she stood, amazed that there was an invisible floor that held her weight. “Way cool. How did you guys do that?” She stomped around in the tub for a few moments. “I can walk on water! Crazy!”

Totally revived, she held on to the side of the tub and propelled herself out of it in a swift vault. Her wolf was raging, wanting to run under the moonlight, but she thought better of it, half-Fae euphoria high or not.

When she wrapped herself in the thick, newly warmed towel, she moaned. The bench might as well have been spa-hot rocks that heated it to a luxurious temperature, massaging and sloughing her skin with tiny fingers as she snuggled down into it.

Had a robe not appeared on a hook she’d never noticed, she would have taken the towel with her to bed. It never got wet, just renewed itself with dry warmth. She looked at the fluffy white robe and let out a sated breath. “If you’re charmed, just stick a fork in me because I’ll be done.”

It took several minutes to release the towel. But unexpected warm air blanketed her instead of the normal knifing cold air that would be in her bathroom. Yeah… The Fae were the best when they rolled out the red carpet. No wonder the Vampires hated them so much. Plus their guys could come out during the day and were just as handsome.

“Haters,” Sasha said, giggling and holding a conversation between the self inside her head and the self outside her head. “Man… this is some really strong euphoria… whew!” She pulled on the robe, closed the sash and then gasped, sitting down on the bench hard with a thud.

Loving sensuality poured over her skin, caressing her as though it were applying body oil. Peacefulness and desire became one. But when she felt her nipples tighten and her body begin to get moist, she stood and quickly headed to the armoire.

Basic common sense told her to find something else to sleep in. If she fell asleep in the charmed robe, she was going to start a wolf war with her howl.

Sasha flung open the armoire doors, practically frantic, and began hunting. But sheer, lace gowns, obscenely indecent lingerie, and white silk sheaths glistened back at her, clearly charmed. The other options weren’t much better. There was an elaborate ball gown that stole her focus for a moment, and she pulled it out to hold it up against her as she stared into the full-length mirror attached to the door.

It was a glimmering blend of moss greens and woodland earth tones splashed across a sheer overlay with a forest-green silk sheath. The arms were bare, cut in a scoop to reveal her shoulders, but the front came up at the neck and was collared by exquisite genuine emerald bead-work. She turned sideways and pulled out the train and noticed that it was backless. But sheer panels fa

“Oh, Sir Rodney… you shouldn’t have.” The note inside read, Happy birthday, love. She quickly closed the case and put it back, deeply conflicted, as she gently shut the armoire door.

Food. She needed to eat, clear her head, and stay focused. It didn’t matter that she’d brought a really inexpensive little black dress from Target to go with a pair of basic black pumps to wear for her birthday. She had never been a fashionista and black seemed to work with everything-but damn. If she wore that to the ball, she’d be vastly underdressed. But if she wore what Sir Rodney had left for her…

Sasha slapped her cheeks. She had to stop thinking about irrelevant things! “Steak, rare, with string beans-not too mushy, cooked but still crunchy… And, uh, new potatoes and a really, really cold beer would be nice,” she called out, testing Rupert’s instructions.

Within seconds the smell of broiled meat filled the room.

“Gotta love the Fae,” she murmured, pacing to the table.