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Blurb:
âOne minute Cami couldnât even buy a date, the next minute she was living with four weredragons who all wanted to marry herâŠâ
When the impossibly handsome Alistair Overton approached Cami Bakersfield on the dance-floor of a nightclub she could not believe her luck.
Little did she know, there was nothing lucky about this. She had already been CHOSEN.
And before she knew it, Cami would end up in a luxurious mansion alongside four of the most beautiful men she had ever seen in her life.
But this was NOT your typical after-party.
These men were the Overtons and they all had the unique ability to shapeshift into strong, fire-breathing DRAGONS.
However, the dragons were in danger and Cami soon discovered that she was part of a prophecy.
In order to save the dragon species she would have to live in the house with all four men until she chose which dragon she wanted to be her husband and the father of her future child.
Welcome to the House Of Dragons!
CHAPTER ONE
Â
Cami
âAre you sure you donât want to go home with me?â Jessica asked. Cami laughed, shaking her head. She wasnât drunk, but sheâd hit her stride with the shots people had bought for the bachelorette party of about eight women. The last thing she wanted at that moment was to catch an Uber back to her quiet, lonely apartment.
âI am sure,â Cami said. âIâll be good. Donât worry.â Jessica raised an eyebrow, glancing around the last club that the party had come to. It was nearly two in the morningâalmost last callâand Cami could see that her friend was exhausted. The bride-to-be had called her future husband about fifteen minutes before, and everyone else had trickled away since.
âPromise me youâll let me know youâre homeâor, God forbid, wherever else you end upâand safe,â Jessica said.
âI promise,â Cami told her friend, giving her an exaggerated, beaming smile. In truth, she was starting to get tired herself, but after watching yet another friend celebrate pending nuptials, Cami wanted to remind herself of the virtues of being single. She would stay until they shut down for the evening, maybe grab a couple of slices of pizza at the late-night pizzeria across the street, and then head home, her hangoverâhopefullyâprevented.
Jessica kissed her on the cheek, and for about two seconds, Cami was sure that her friend would press the issue one last time. Instead, Jessica turned to make her way through the crowd of dancing revelers to the exit. Cami turned her attention back onto the bartenders and waited patiently for her turn.
The bachelorette party had been a bar crawl of sorts, going to each of the places Cami and her friends had frequented as single girls and ending at the low-key dance club Lost Weekend, their favorite. The staff and most of the regulars knew them, and Cami knew it was only a matter of a few minutes until she was served.
âAnother shot?â Crystal, the bartender, asked. Cami shook her head.
âI think Iâve done enough straight liquor for the night,â she said.
Crystal laughed. âYeah, everyone wanted to see Isobel plastered. Whatâll you have, then?â
Cami considered the question. âI think a gin and tonic,â she said. âExtra lime?â
Crystal grinned. âTanqueray or well?â
Cami shuddered. âDefinitely the Tanqueray. Iâll pay extra for it. Well gin is a nightmare.â
Crystal laughed and got to work, quickly assembling the cocktail and squeezing an extra lime wedge into the concoction.
âIâll add it to the tab,â Crystal said. âIsobel preset it with us to close it out once the last of the party leaves.â
âSo, no 10% surcharge for her?â Cami asked, raising an eyebrow. That was the club policy for when someone forgot their card.
âNo surcharge,â Crystal confirmed, handing the drink off to Cami and then turning to take care of the next customer.
Cami took a sip of the sharp, throat-tingling cocktail and looked around the club again, browsing with her gaze. The crowd at Lost Weekend was an ever-changing group, ebbing and flowing: the hardcore regulars, of course, in goth or grunge or punk styles; the floating regulars like herselfâstylish but nothing on the glamazons that went to some of the higher-end clubs in the same areaâand then the people who picked the club at random, who might eventually become regulars.
Her gaze fell on a man off to the side of the dance floor, swaying to the Pixies and watching the more intent dancers. Camiâs interest was immediately piqued; he wasnât a regular that sheâd ever seen, but he didnât have the slightly awkward look of someone who wasnât sure they belonged eitherâthe look she knew from the people who floated in and out. He was tall, probably just over six feet, and slim almost to the point of being skinny, dressed in fitted jeans and a blue dress shirt. Blond hair fell to his jaw, curling just slightly at the ends. He turned slightly in her direction, and Cami ripped her gaze away, pretending to look for her long-gone friends, sipping her drink.
When she was almost certain that the coast was clear, she glanced at the area where sheâd seen the man. He was gone, and Cami suppressed a burst of frustration at that fact. The club wasnât huge, but it was fairly easy to lose people in it, with the flashing lights overlaying the darkness, the general sense of disorientation, and the moving crowdsânot to mention the distraction of cigarette smoke hanging around in the air, in one of the few locations smoking was allowed inside in the county. She shrugged off the manâs disappearance. Itâs rude to stare at people anyway, and nothing would have ever come of it, she told herself.
The DJ transitioned to another song, and Cami let out an almost involuntary shriek of excitement as the first notes of Franz Ferdinandâs âTake Me Outâ came through the sound system. She barely remembered to bring her drink with her as she rushed the short distance to the dance floor and threw herself into dancing. She wasnât the only one thrilled by the selection, and Cami found herself surrounded by similarly giddy twenty-somethings, all singing along to the lyrics as they all gyrated.
âI know I wonât be leaving hereÂŒwith youÂŒâ Cami felt someone brush against her from behind as she swayed and sang but didnât think anything of it, tossing her head and closing her eyes. The DJ milked the song for all it was worth, building it up again and again, and Cami let the music flow around her, propelling her movements. It came to the last chorus, and Cami twirled, brieflyânearlyâlosing her balance. A pair of hands caught her and kept her upright and her drink in its plastic cup, and Cami laughed.
âIâm sorry,â she said quickly, stepping back. She saw a blue dress shirt and fitted jeans, and blinked, taking another step back, nearly colliding with some other dancers. Her unexpected helper was the man sheâd seen before. The lights flickered over them for a second or two, and Cami got a look at the manâs face: sharp, fine features, and bright eyesâžit was impossible to tell the colorâwith sandy, groomed eyebrows. His lips werenât overly full but had a beautiful, almost feminine shape to them, and one of the corners twitched upward as Cami tried to think of what to say. âThanks for saving my drink,â she said brightly.
âI was more worried about your dress,â the man told her, and Cami giggled before she could stop herself. She kept swaying to the music, unable to quite break its hypnosis, and noticed that the man was moving tooâmoving with her, though not so close that they were exactly dancing together.
âI should probably be more careful with it,â Cami said with exaggerated seriousness. The man laughed, and Cami found herself laughing again too; the sound was so infectious. The DJ let Franz Ferdinand fade out. Cami would have made her excuses and left the dance floor then, but she heard the telltale guitar strumming opening of Foo Fightersâs âEverlong.â That brought more appreciative shrieks from everyone, and Cami saw the gleam in her helperâs eyes as she started dancing again.
He moved closer to her, matching her movements, and Cami quickly drank the last of her cocktail as the song transitioned from the instrumental opening into the first verse. She closed her eyes and threw herself into the music, able to sense her new dance partner as he stopped just short of touching her, close enough that she could smell a strange kind of cologne on him: like incense, ashes, and evergreen trees, the smell of post-harvest, late-fall fires. Despite being more than half a foot taller than her, he somehow managed to dance up close to her without any awkwardness and without making her feel uncomfortable, crowded, or creeped out. Cami opened her eyes to catch him singing along with the lyrics and added her own voice to the crowd of people shout-singing.
âThe only thing Iâll ever ask of youÂŒyou gotta promise not to stop when I say whenÂŒâ The man leaned in just a little closer, somehow, his mouth only inches from her ear as they danced together, and she heard his voice, low but somehow almost more audible than the music. âBreathe out, so I can breathe you inÂŒâ She laughed, unable to help herself from the giddiness of the situation, and caught the return chuckle from her dance partner.
By the time the song ended, Cami definitely needed to sit down, and she tried to think of how to convince her newâas yet unnamedâfriend to join her. She slowed to a stop and looked up at his face. Offer to buy him a drink for saving yours! Perfect!
âYour drink is empty,â he said before she could make the suggestion.
Camiâs cheeks burned. âI was actually going to get another,â she said. âAnd I wondered if I could buy you one for helping to save the last one.â
The man smiled openly, revealing perfectly straight, neat, white teeth. âI normally donât let people buy drinks for me,â he said.
âWell, I have a confession,â Cami told him before he could finish his sentence. âI wouldnât actually be paying. I have a tabâa friend set it up for her bachelorette party.â
Her dance partner chuckled again. âYou shouldnât abuse the generosity of your friends,â he said. âWhy not let me buy you a drink instead?â
Cami looked up at him for a long moment, and then nodded her agreement, feeling a tingle all through her body that she knew very well. It didnât happen often, but somehow, the universe had dropped a guy she could actually be interested in into her lap; she wasnât going to do anything to jeopardize the potential.
âLead the way,â she said, gesturing for him to precede her to the bar.
He grabbed her hand, and Cami felt a jolt from her hand through her arm, seemingly right to the center of her bodyâsomething more than just the impulse of an attractive man touching her. She shook it off, letting her new acquaintance steer them both to the bar, through the throngs of people. The clock above the neon and glass behemoth that was the club bar told Cami that they were about to announce last call, and from there, the club would wind down, closing maybe thirty minutes to an hour later.
âLast call is in five minutes,â Crystal told her and then glanced at the man whoâd accompanied her, raising an eyebrow in a quick, interested twitch. âWhatâll you have?â
âIâll have whatever sheâs going to get two of,â the man said, and Cami turned to give him a doubtful look.
âBuying me two drinks at once?â
The man shrugged. âItâs almost last call,â he pointed out. âDonât want to miss out on the last drink of the night, right?â
Cami shrugged and saw Crystal grinning. âTwo Tanqueray and tonics, then,â she said.
âExtra lime,â Crystal added, and Cami nodded.
She looked around for a chair, hoping against hope she could get off of her feet for a few minutes. The club boasted couches along one wall, and there was an outside seating area with picnic tables, but Cami didnât want to waste any time trying to find a convenient spot or risk her new acquaintance losing interest.
âHere,â the man grabbed a chair that Cami hadnât even seen and pulled it toward her, gesturing for her to sit.
âYou are just on top of all my needs tonight,â Cami said, giving him an appreciative smile.
âI figured it was the best way to stay close,â the man said.
âYou want to stay close to me?â Cami asked. Crystal put the drinks in front of them, and the man passed her a fifty-dollar bill. Cami realized she hadnât even seen him take out a wallet.
âKeep the rest,â he said, and Crystalâs eyes widened slightly. The Tanqueray was on the pricier side, but a $20 tip or better wasâCami knewâon the remarkable side.
âThanks,â Crystal said. âThatâs really nice of you!â
The man smiled again, flashing his bright, straight teeth; there was something about the expression that almost unnerved Cami in the brighter light around the bar, but she couldnât say what. The next second, though, he turned his attention back onto her, and the smile faded to little more than an upward curve of his lips.
âYou know, I should probably ask your name,â Cami said, picking up the first of her drinks. She raised it to her dance partner, and he picked up his own.
âAlistair,â he said. âAlistair Overton. And you?â
Cami clinked her plastic cup against his and took a long drink of her cocktail. âCamille Bakersfield,â she said. âBut everyone calls me Cami.â
Alistair inclined his head slightly toward her, taking his first sip of his drink. âI saw you dancing, Cami,â he said. âI justÂŒcouldnât not be close to you, I guess.â
Cami felt her cheeks warming up again. âYou did?â
Alistair nodded. âI donât usually dance much,â he told her. âBut I felt drawn to you. And well, if you were dancing, I should be dancing too, right?â
Cami grinned. âAre you intentionally being devastatingly charming, or is this just how you are naturally?â
Alistair laughed out loud, and the sound was just as delightful as it had been before, prompting Cami to giggle with him. âSome of both, probably,â Alistair replied. âWhat brings you out tonight?â
âOhâwell, like I said before, my friend,â Cami said. âWe did kind of a bar crawl for her bachelorette party, ending up here.â
âLast call!â The music cut out just long enough for the bartenders to make the announcement, and people started heading to the bar to make sure they could get one more drink in before the night ended.
âSo, your friend,â Alistair said, moving closer to her as the bar became a crowded territory. âThis doesnât seem like the usual bachelorette party location.â
Cami shrugged. âI guess not, but we spent all of our single days here,â she said. âAnd well, I guess I am still single, so I stayed after everyone else called it a night.â Cami yawned. She felt sleepyâsleepier than the late hour and the alcohol should have made her feel.
âNight owl, eh?â
Cami nodded, suppressing a second yawn. When did she get so sleepy? She sipped her drink, knowing it wouldnât actually help but hoping against hope that the cold liquid would at least trigger some kind of effect. âAlthough, apparently, walking to five different bars takes it out of you,â she said, blinking a few times rapidly and sitting up a little straighter.
âOh, definitely,â Alistair agreed. âI could never do thatâin heels, at least.â He glanced down at her feet, and Cami shrugged.
âAfter a certain point, your toes go numb,â she told him. âOf course, later on, the pain comes back with a vengeance.â
Alistair chuckled and sipped his drink. They continued talking, Alistair asking Cami about herself, and Cami pressing him for reciprocity. But somehow, as she consumed her drinks, she kept losing the thread of the conversation, the sleepy feeling rising up again and again. After a little while, the music slowed down and cut off, the DJ playing the last song to get everyone to finish up and leave. Crystal checked in with her when they were closing out tabs.
âYou all good, Cami?â Crystal looked doubtful.
Cami felt a little lost at seaânot drunk, not drugged, exactly, just tired and ready for home. âYeah, everythingâs all right,â she said. âIâm going to get an Uber home.â Crystal looked at Alistair skeptically. Cami leaned a bit against him.
âIâll make sure she gets in the right car,â Alistair said.
âIâm going to text you in the morning, okay, Cami? And remember to text Jess,â Crystal said, as Cami inelegantly hopped off of the bar stool Alistair had gotten for her.
âIâll text you both,â Cami said. It felt like she was on a boat, almostâas if the floor under her was moving. She didnât feel that drunk, though. What is going on with me?
âLetâs get you outside, get you some fresh air and a car home,â Alistair said. He took her arm, and somehow Cami felt both more lost and more comforted at the same time as he helped her steer her way through the club to the entrance. Alix, the bouncer at the door, gave her new friend a dubious look, but when Cami reassured him that she was fine, he let them leave the club together.
Alistair steered her toward a nearby bench, and Cami took out her phone, struggling with the fingerprint ID for a few seconds before she could get it to work. She opened the Uber app and peered at the screen, trying to see if it had found her location properly.
âCan you check this for me? I donât want to deal with an annoyed driver trying to find me,â Cami said and then giggled with the memory of the last time that had happened.
âYeah, thatâs where we are,â Alistair confirmed, setting the pickup.
âOh no!â Cami said, sitting up a bit. âI meant to get pizza before I went home.â
Alistair chuckled. âI donât think youâll be awake long enough to eat it,â Alistair pointed out.
âStill,â Cami said, pouting.
Alistair looked across the street to the open Rose Street Pizzeria, and then glanced at her phone. âHeâs ten minutes away,â Alistair said. âLet me get you some pizza. Iâll be right back. Are you going to be okay?â
Cami considered the question. âFor ten minutes? Yeah, Iâll be all right,â she said, smiling fondly at him. âYouâre so nice!â
Alistair snorted. âBe right back,â he said, starting off across the street to the pizzeria.
Cami watched him, her thoughts free-floating and irrelevant as she waited for either her car to arrive or her new friend to come back.
By the time Alistair approached with a takeout box of pizza slices, the car arrived. By then, though, Cami barely knew where she was. The last thing she remembered was getting into the car, and Alistair climbing in behind her, saying something to the driver. After that, everything went dark.
CHAPTER TWO
Â
Nicholas
Nicholas looked at his cousin, still holding the takeout box from Rose Street Pizzeria. Alistair didnât look exactly proud of himself, but there was the faint sign in his expression that told Nicholas that his cousin wasnât exactly displeased with the situation either.
âYouâre sure itâs her?â
Alistair nodded. âI checked her ID when we were in the car,â Alistair said.
Nicholas glanced at the guest room door, closed to give their unexpected guest some privacy, and sighed. Heâd seen the girlâCamille Bakersfield, Alistair had said her name wasâwhen his cousin had brought her in, fully asleep. âSheâs going to be pissed when she wakes up,â Nicholas pointed out.
Alistair shrugged. âNobody has touched her, and nobody will,â he said. âI can just say that I was worried about her, wanted to make sure she was safe. Besides,â he hefted the takeout box, âI have pizza for her. Peace offering.â
âYou still should have been more cautious,â Nicholas said. He looked at the closed door again. If his cousin was right, the fortunes of the Overton clan would change practically overnightâbut only if they moved quickly. And only if they could get Camille on their side.
âYou wanted her,â Alistair pointed out. âI managed to find her. I think we can make this work.â
Nicholas pressed his lips together, exhaling slowly through his nose. âEli and Dylan will be here soon,â Nicholas said. âSomebody had better be up when she comes out of it. Somebody has to explain.â
âIâm good for another few hours, at least,â Alistair said brightly.
Nicholas rolled his eyes. âWhat are you going to do? Explain to her that she needs to stay here for at least a week? Do you even know anything about her other than who she is?â
Alistair frowned, losing some of his exhilaration at his success, and Nicholas felt a mixture of satisfaction and guilt at letting the wind out of his cousinâs sails. âShe doesnât have to stay for a week right away,â Alistair said. âWe let her wake up, meet us, explain some of the situationÂŒâ He shrugged.
Nicholas shook his head. âWe canât explain some of the situation without explaining all of the situation,â he pointed out to Alistair. âSheâs going to have questions. You should have started slow.â
âSheâs tooÂŒâ Alistair sighed. âYouâll see when she wakes up.â
Nicholas raised an eyebrow. âToo what?â
Alistair shrugged. âAs soon as I spotted her, I couldnât not bring her home,â Alistair said. âI mean, I know sheâs supposed to be different. But if anything convinced me that sheâs the one we needÂŒâ
âWeâll see,â Nicholas said, turning his back on the door. He heard Elijah and Dylanâthe other two Overton clan members looking for the woman Alistair had managed to findâcoming into the house and started down the hall to meet them. Heâd sent a text when Alistair had arrived home, easily balancing the unconscious Camille and box of pizza slices, hurriedly explaining that heâd found the one they were looking for.
âDid Alistair really find her?â
Nicholas shrugged off Elijahâs question. âHe says the ID checks out,â Nicholas replied. âBut weâll see when she wakes up.â
âIf he has, then thank God,â Dylan chimed in. âIâve been getting tired of the search.â
Nicholas scowled at his older cousin. The stakes were not quite as high for Dylan as they were for the rest of the clan; his part of the family was still doing well. But if they didnât manage to secure Camilleâassuming she was who they thought she wasâthen even Dylanâs branch of the Overton clan would go down, as the rest of their kind would.
âWe have to take care of this,â Nicholas said firmly. âWe have to win her over to our side of things as quickly as possible, since Alistair decided to just bring her here right away.â
âWell, what else was he going to do?â Elijah asked. âPlaying it slow risks someone else finding her and playing âkeep away.ââ
âThank you, Eli,â Alistair said, appearing from the hallway. âThat was exactly my point.â
âI still think that if weâd taken it slow and introduced ourselves to her gradually, weâd get a better result,â Nicholas said.
âYouâre just jealous Alistair found her and not you,â Dylan suggested. Nicholas growled low in his throat, but he couldnât quite argue the point. Theyâd been looking for the woman for months, ever since theyâd gotten an update about how to find her; heâd been hoping that heâd be the one to track her down, to introduce her to what she needed to know. And the woman Alistair had brought in, if she really was the woman the prophecy meant, was definitely someone Nicholas wanted to spend a lot of quality time withâin spite of the fact that sheâd been unconscious.
The woman Alistair had brought in was beautiful, there was no question. Sheâd been in a slinky, curve-hugging dark green dress with a moderately low neckline, along with heels high enough that when Alistair told Nicholas that sheâd apparently been bar-hopping that night as part of a bachelorette party, Nicholas had let out a low, respectful whistle. She had long, dark hair that was in a slightly messy bun, and delicate features highlighted by just enough makeup to do the job. Theyâd taken care of her and tucked her into the bed in the guest room together, and Camille Bakersfield had looked tiny among the pillows and blankets; Nicholas guessed that she was maybe 5â5â, at most 5â6â tall, and with curves that had practically begged to be touched. All of her height was in her legs; her torso was short, adding to the hourglass effect of her figure.
âNo,â Nicholas said to Dylanâs accusation. âIâm worried that Alistair bringing her right here is going to create an issue where sheâs going to freak out, run away, and immediately not trust us.â
âWe just have to handle it the right way,â Eli said with a shrug. âI mean, neither of you did anything creepy to her while she was out, did you?â He raised an eyebrow, and Nicholas looked at Alistair. Technically, nothing they had done was–strictly speaking–creepy. But depending on Camilleâs state of mind on waking up, Nicholas could easily imagine that she wouldnât agree.
âOne of us–at least one of us–needs to be awake when she gets up,â Nicholas said firmly. âSomeone needs to be on hand to explain the situation to her.â
âWe havenât even agreed on how much weâre going to tell her,â Alistair pointed out.
âAs little as possible,â Nicholas said. âShe doesnât need to hear it all at once. She wonât believe it if she does.
âThen just how are you going to get her to stay here for a week, at least?â Dylan asked.
âWeâll deal with that later,â Nicholas said. âThe first thing is to make her as sympathetic to us as possible.â
âYouâre making it sound like weâre kidnappers,â Elijah said.
âTechnically, we kind of are,â Dylan pointed out.
âShe got in the Uber willingly,â Alistair said.
âYeah, but where did she think she was going?â Dylan asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
Nicholas sighed. âSheâs here now,â Nicholas said. âThe goal is to keep her here as long as possibleâand to make sure she does it willingly. We can handle the rest of it when weâve gotten her to agree to stay with us for a while.â He looked at his three cousins and took a deep breath.
âSo, which one of us is going to sit up and wait for her to wake up all hungover?â Elijah looked around the group, and Nicholas knew that they were waiting to see if he was going to take responsibility or delegate it.
âWeâre all going to be on hand,â he said. âWeâll take turns napping until she gets up, but we need to all be available.â Annoyance flickered across Dylanâs face, and resignation across Elijahâs. Alistair had likelyâNicholas thoughtâexpected him to make that exact decision.
âCan we at least get a peek at her before we commit to staying up until probablyâwhatânoon?â Dylan asked.
Nicholas shrugged. âIf you can be absolutely silent and not risk waking her up, then sure,â Nicholas said. He knew that if he forbade it, the two cousins who hadnât been there when Alistair arrived home with their quarry would just do it while he napped during the wait for the woman to wake up.
âSheâs pretty fully out of it,â Alistair pointed out. âI meanÂŒâ
Nicholas looked at his cousin sharply.
âOh god, you didnât, like, bathe her or anything, did you?â Elijah looked almost horrified at the idea.
âNo!â Nicholas said.
âJustÂŒmade her a little more comfortable than she would probably be in going-out clothes and makeup,â Alistair said, looking away.
âYeah, sheâs immediately going to think weâre the creepiest creeps that ever creeped,â Elijah said.
âHopefully, we can talk her out of pressing charges,â Dylan mused. ââI know youâre probably super freaked out right now, but hey, weâre looking out for your skincare routine!ââ
âWhatâs done is done,â Nicholas said.
âOh, is that what youâre going to tell her? Iâm sure that will win her over,â Dylan said.
Nicholas scowled at his cousin. âWhat are you going to tell her?â
Dylan shrugged. âIâd go with, âIf you agree to stay here for a week, Iâll buy you the pet of your choice, anything other than snakes,ââ he said.
Nicholas snorted. âYou are not going to do that,â he told his cousin. âNot the least of which because, ideally, sheâll stay here longer than a week, and Iâm not taking care of whatever pet she decides she wants.â
âShe could decide she wants an entire Iditarod dog sled team, and youâd put up with it,â Dylan pointed out. âAll four of us would.â
Elijah shrugged, and Alistair smiled wryly. Nicholas tried to scowl, but instead, he sighed because Dylan was right: Camille was too important. Theyâd agree to just about any terms she could come up with because all of them needed her.
âLetâs go and sneak a peek,â Elijah suggested. âThen, we can figure out who takes the first nap.â
CHAPTER THREE
Â
Cami
Cami woke up all at once, her heart beating fast. Somehow, even asleep, some part of her brain had realized that something was wrong. Her head throbbed, but she didnât feel the usual hangover nausea or body aches; in fact, she felt remarkably well-rested. But even before she opened her eyes, Cami knew she wasnât in her own bed. Her own bedâwhile she had put as much money as she could afford into making it as comfortable as possibleâwas not nearly as comfortable as the one she woke up in. What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. She definitely was not in her own bed, in her own apartment, or anything like it.
âWhat the fuck,â she murmured, looking around.
The first thing she noticed was that she was not in the dress and heels sheâd worn out; somewhere along the line, either she or someone else had taken those off, switching them for a pair of expensive but extremely comfortable silk pajamas. Her hair was down out of the bun sheâd put it in, and the lack of colorful smears on the pillow told her without checking a mirror that her makeup was off.
Then there was the fact that she was in a bed at least twice the size of her bed at home. It was an antique, four-poster behemoth, with half a dozen pillows and what felt like a quality duvet covering her. The room was almost the size of her whole apartment, with a fireplace on the wall directly facing her, a door leading to what Cami thoughtâhopedâwas a bathroom, and a comfortable-looking chair and couch alongside a window that looked out on a heavily gardened yard. The floor was antique hardwood, dark and smoky looking from years of use, and she thought the dresser in one corner of the room might be older than she was.
âWhat the hell happened last night?â Cami sat up in bed, trying to piece together what she could remember. Getting into the Uber, Alistair climbing in next to her, and then? âSon of a bitch!â
She nearly tangled herself in the blankets hurriedly getting out of the bed, stumbling before she righted herself and threw the heavy, warm material back. Cami roughly combed her fingers through her messy hair, looking around, trying to find her clothes. âNot important,â she told herself, anger bubbling up through her brain as the rest of the possible events of the nightâevents that she had apparently either been blacked out or unconscious forâbecame apparent to her. She saw a pair of slippers, clearly placed for her use, but kicked them aside on her way out of the bedroom sheâd woken up in, grabbing the ornate doorknob and twisting it as hard as she could.
âWhere the hell are you?â Cami shouted as soon as she left the room, following the hallway the door opened on. âAlistair?â Fear warred with anger in her mind for two seconds, as the possibilitiesâincreasingly outlandish but no less worryingâpresented themselves to her.
âGuys? I think sheâs awake,â Cami heard someone say a moment before she emerged from the hallway and into a marble-floored foyer. On one side, a grand staircase with brass handrails led upward; to her right, Cami saw a small entry space and ornate, carved wooden doors with wrought-iron decorations. The marble was cold underfoot, and for maybe half a second, Cami regretted not putting the offered slippers onâbut a heartbeat later, her anger came back, and she continued forward toward the sound of the voice, through another set of double doors.
âAlistair!â Cami trudged into the room, and thenâas she took in the sight in front of herâcame to an abrupt stop. She had expected to see the man sheâd met at Lost Weekend the night before, and Alistair was there, sitting slouched on a long Chesterfield, in pajama pants and a tee shirt. What she hadnât expected was to see three other men, all of them equally good-lookingâthough in different waysâall looking up at her from their positions about the room.
One of the men sat in an oversized wingback chair, one leg crossed over the other, a phone in his hand. He had short, dark blond hair and chiseled features, light eyes, and a broad chest that his tight tee shirt did nothing to disguise. Another man was sprawled on a second couch in the room: his light brown hair fell to just under his chin, messy but still appealing as a frame for a strong-featured face with generous lips and big, brown eyes. He was broad-chested, with strong upper arms and wide hands, his lean body not quite hidden by the baggy tee shirt and faded sweatpants he had on. A third man was perched in another chair, all legs and arms: his medium-brown hair fell to his shoulders in loose waves, the ends curling in different directions. When he put his feet down on the floor and sat up, Cami saw that the rest of him was just as slim as his slightly gangly legs and arms, his artistically ripped shirt and pajama pants hanging on him strategically.
âI still have your pizza,â Alistair said. âIf youâre hungry, I mean.â
Cami stared at Alistair for a moment and opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She closed her mouth, took a deep breath, and tried again. âWhat…the hell…is going on here?â
Alistair glanced at the man with the short blond hair in the oversized wingback chair.
âWho the hell are these people?â
âWho won the betting pool on what her first words to us would be?â the long, skinny one asked.
âTechnically, no one,â the blond on the couch said, sitting up. âSince none of us went with âwhere the hell are you.ââ
âSomeone answer my question before I just start screaming and donât stop,â Cami suggested.
âYou look like you have a headache,â the blond on the couch observed. âI donât think screaming would help.â
âRight now, I donât particularly care,â Cami told him. âSomeone give me some answers as to what the hell happened, where the hell I am, and what the hell this is.â
âIâd recommend you sit down,â the short-haired blond told her. He gestured to the one empty couch in the room, another Chesterfield-style behemoth of furniture. Cami didnât want to sit down; she felt more powerful, more imposing standing up. But if any of the men in the room stood upâmuch less all of themâCami was certain that slim advantage would evaporate, since she was fairly certain they were all taller than her. She looked around at the four men, watching her with such intense interest that some of the more outlandish ideas about what sheâd been plunged into started to seem more realistic.
âAnswer one thing before I sit down,â Cami said. âIs this some kind of sex cult thing?â
âNo!â all four men replied at once.
Cami raised an eyebrow. âYou know, that is not really reassuring,â she said dryly.
âIt isnât a sex cult,â the short-haired blond said. âJust sit down, and weâll explain what happened.â
âI have a pretty decent idea of what happened,â Cami said, crossing her arms over her chest. âThat asshole drugged me somehow and brought me here.â
âI didnât drug you,â Alistair said quickly.
âReally? Because I passed out in the car, and I know I wasnât that drunk,â Cami said tartly.
âI promise you my cousin didnât drug you,â the short-haired blond told her.
âStill not buying it,â Cami said. âI drank a lot last night, sure. But Iâm not puking, and I only have a little bit of headache. So, I definitely didnât drink enough to black out. And the last thing I remember is getting into the Uber, and justÂŒeverything going black on me.â
âSit down,â the short-haired blond repeated. âWeâll explain as much as we can to you right now, and more later.â
âIâm not comfortable with the âmore laterâ part of that,â Cami said. âI want you to explain why the hell Iâm in different clothes and what all you did to me while I was passed out, and then I want at least three good reasons I shouldnât get the hell out of here and go straight to the police.â
The short-haired blond rose from his chair, and Camiâs impression that he was taller than her definitely bore out; he was easily as tall as Alistair, maybe one or two inches taller, and broader across the chest and back, muscular in a way Alistair wasnât. Camiâs mouth went dry at the sight of him approaching her, and her heart beat faster in her chest.
âSit down, please,â he said, his voice quietâand unmenacingâbut definitely firm. Cami couldnât look away from him, despite her desire to glare at Alistair. She tried to think of a way to argue with his command but found that she didnât have quite the nerve or the presence of mind.
âFine,â she said, summoning up what little courage she had to walk past him and around the perimeter of the big leather Chesterfield without betraying the nervousness that had come across her. She sat down, crossing her legs at the ankle, and kept her head high as she dared. âBut Iâm still not sold on not going to the cops.â
âIf we wanted to keep you from going to the cops, Iâd like to point out that we outnumber you and are bigger than you,â the skinny brunet said.
âI donât know, Dyl. She looks like she could probably take you out, at least,â the longer-haired blond said.
âIf she could take me out, she could take Alistair out,â the skinny brunetâapparently named Dylanâsaid.
âShut up,â the short-haired blond told them both, his voice quiet but no less commanding. âOur guest has questions.â
âYou mean, your hostage,â Cami countered. âOr what do you call a kidnapping victim? Are you even planning on ransoming me?â
âYou werenât technically kidnapped,â Alistair pointed out.
âI was supposed to be going home,â Cami said.
âYou did,â Alistair said brightly. âJust not your home.â
Cami scowled. âThat isnât a very good defense,â she said tartly.
âYou wanted an explanation, right?â The short-haired blond sat down in his chair, leaning forward slightly and resting his elbows on his knees. âDo you want an explanation, or do you want to keep sniping at everyone?â
âI meanÂŒboth sound good,â Cami said.
The short-haired blond rolled his eyes. âYou arenât being kidnapped,â he said. âIf you want to leave, you absolutely can. But before you go, my goal is to convince you not to leave.â
âNot starting off on a good foot here,â Cami told him. âHey, before we start this whole thing with you explaining what the hell this is, could I maybe get some names?â
âYou already know Alistairâs name,â the short-haired blond said. âIâm Nicholas. Thatââ he pointed to the skinny brunet, âis Dylan, and last of all Elijah.â
âOkay,â Cami said. She took a deep breath and realized that her anger was starting to ebb out of her. She was ready to get angry all over again, depending on what the men said, but for the moment, her curiosity was greater. âSo, tell me what the hell happened and why you want me to stay here. And I should probably point out: youâre going to want to give me some damn good reasons to want to stay here.â She sat back but didnât quite relax against the leather sofa.
âAlistair didnât drug you,â Nicholas said. âHe wouldnât. None of us would.â
âIâm going to need something better than an appeal to your honor because I donât know any of you,â Cami pointed out. âFor all I know, you regularly go out, find someone to drug, bring her home, and repeatedly rape her until you get tired of it and then bury her in the backyard.â
âAllow me to point out that, while itâs probably a little jarring to wake up in pajamas with your makeup off, nobody harmed you,â Nicholas pointed out. âYou can at least recognize that you woke up with no bruises and none of theÂŒsigns ÂŒof being violated?â
Cami felt her cheeks burning. âFinding out that someone undressed me and took my makeup off while I was unconscious is still kind of leaving me feeling violated,â Cami said. âEven if nothing worse than that happened.â
âIn our defense,â Alistair chimed in, âwould sleeping in that dress have been that comfortable?â
âThat isnât the point,â Nicholas said before Cami could reply. âWe had good intentions, but obviously we overstepped. Alistair and I apologize.â
âSorry, Cami,â Alistair said. From that, Cami took the idea that it had only been those two men involved in cleaning her up and changing her clothes. They could be lying, she thought. But then, what would be the point?
âFine,â Cami said. âI will say these are very comfortable pajamas, and Iâm sure the slippers you left for me were comfortable too.â
âI could get them for you, if your feet are cold,â Elijah said.
âIâm okay,â Cami told him. âLetâs get on with this explanation.â
âAlistair brought you here because we need your help,â Nicholas said.
âAll four of you?â Cami looked around the room, her thoughts once again returning to the more outlandish ideas sheâd had about what sheâd been brought into.
âAll four of us, yes,â Nicholas said. âWeâre family; all of us are cousins. We would like to ask you to stay for a week, and if you want to leave after thatÂŒweâll be happy to let you.â
âBut if I want to leave before that, you wonât be happy,â Cami surmised.
âWeâll be disappointed, but we wonât stop you,â Nicholas replied.
âOkay, so. Big question here: Why?â Cami glanced at the other three men and then turned her attention back onto Nicholas.
âThe answer is a complicated one,â Nicholas said. âBefore I start explaining why we need you, could you answer something for me?â
Cami raised an eyebrow. âTechnically, Iâm not really in a position to say no,â Cami said. âBut Iâm not going to promise to give you an answer because youâre either going to do something terrible to me or not, and Iâm not all that sure my answer will affect that outcome.â
âDid you ever meet your father?â
Camiâs eyes widened. âOkay, youâre going to need to give me some context for why you need to know,â she said.
âJust answer: did you meet him, and do you know who he was?â
Cami stared at Nicholas for a second. Then, she turned her attention onto Alistair. âMeeting you last night wasnât that random, was it?â she asked.
âNo, it wasnât,â he admitted.
âAnswer the question, Cami,â Nicholas said.
âNo, Iâve never met my father,â Cami replied tartly. âMy mother left him while she was pregnant with me. Why?â
âDo you know who he was? Or at least his name?â
Cami scowled. âMy mom told me his name but didnât tell me anything about him,â she said.
âWhat was his name?â Nicholas asked, staring at her intently.
âShe said his name was Finn Keane,â Cami said. âShe didnât put his name on the birth certificate, and theyâI guessânever got married, so I just got her last name.â
âYouâre sure she said he was Finn Keane?â
Cami nodded. âYes,â she said. âWhy is that important?â
âBecause it means you are exactly who we need,â Nicholas replied. âAnd we really need you to stay.â
âAt some point, are you going to get around to telling me why?â Cami asked. âBecause youâre kind of weirding me out even more right now.â
âAlistair picked you up because we got your name from a prophecy,â Nicholas said.
âOh, Christ,â Cami groaned. âThis is some kind of sex cult, isnât it? Or at least, some kind of cult?â
âIt isnât a cult,â Nicholas said.
âThatâs exactly what people in cults say,â Cami pointed out.
âWe have no plans to rape you, sacrifice you, or bilk you out of thousands of dollars,â Dylan chimed in from his seat. âOr any dollars. In fact, if you stay here, weâll probably pay you.â
âPay me for what?â Cami looked at all four of the men in turn.
âPay you just for being here,â Dylan said. âI mean, I assume youâve got some kind of job youâd be missing out on for the week, right?â
âIf I just disappeared for a week, Iâd probably be missing my job for a lot longer than that,â Cami said.
âHow about this?â Elijah suggested, leaning forward and looking at her with avid, attentive brown eyes. âWeâll pay you a yearâs salary if you stay here for a week.â
âWhat?â Cami turned her attention from Elijah to Nicholas, who shrugged.
âIâm just being practical,â Elijah said.
âHe has a point,â Dylan added. âOur goal is to have her stay here a week. If we can accomplish that with money, Iâm onboard.â
âIâd rather she chose to stay here because she wanted to,â Nicholas said.
âIf money makes her want to stay, then why try the hard sell on any other reason?â Dylan pointed out. âI mean, she has no reason right now to want to help us. Or even trust us.â
âHeâs right,â Cami said.
âI was getting around to explaining,â Nicholas protested.
âIâm not saying that money alone would make me stay here,â Cami said. âI am saying that if you can guarantee I will be financially fine for at least a year afterward, thatâs going to pretty strongly influence my opinion on whether the other reasons are important to me.â
Nicholas sighed. âIf you want to pay her, Dylan, then Iâm not going to argue,â Nicholas said. Cami glanced at the skinny, long-haired man, wondering why Nicholas had singled him out; his tone didnât suggest that heâd said it to shut Dylan up but instead that he fully expected Dylan to agree to it.
âWhatâs your salary, Cami?â Dylan took his phone out of a pocket and unlocked it.
âFifty grand,â Cami said, inflating the amount somewhat.
âI feel like youâre probably lying to me,â Dylan said, looking up from his phone for a second to make eye contact with her. âBut I can do $5,500 a month for a year, easy.â
Cami tried not to let the surprise show on her face. âSeriously? Youâre seriously going to pay me five-and-a-half grand a month, for twelve months, to stay here for a week?â
Dylan shrugged indolently. âI can set up the escrow account right now,â he said. âFirst payment a week from today, and then every four weeks after that.â
âHow do I know youâre telling the truth? That itâs not a scam?â
Dylan looked up from his phone, staring at her steadily. âIf you want the first payment in cash, youâll have to give me time to go to the bank,â he said. âAnd you wonât be allowed to leave with it until after a week.â
âCan we talk about this later?â Nicholas asked. âI want to get to the point here.â
âThe point right now seems to be whether we can pay Cami to stay with us for a week,â Dylan countered. âAnd I can. If you canât explain to her over the course of a weekÂŒâ
âThat isnât an issue,â Nicholas said sharply. âCami, you wanted to know why we chose you.â
âI do still want to know that,â Cami said.
âYour father was a very important person,â Nicholas said. âItâs a shame that your mother chose to leave him, but none of us can really blame her.â
âWell, I mean, none of you even know her,â Cami pointed out.
âWe know that she wasnât prepared for the future you were meant to have,â Nicholas said. âThatâs why she left your father; he probably told her what that was.â
âGetting the culty vibe again,â Cami told him.
âI have to admit, if I wasnât on the inside, Iâd probably think it was a cult too,â Alistair chimed in.
âIt isnât a cult,â Nicholas said again. âBut the short version of things is that we need you to help save our kind.â