A.O.E.M.: Dinner For Three Read online

  A.O.E.M.: Dinner For Three

  Camille Anthony

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright ©2005 Camille Anthony

  No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Changeling Press LLC.

  ISBN 1-59596-208-5

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  Publisher:

  Changeling Press LLC

  PO Box 1561

  Shepherdstown, WV 25443-1561

  www.ChangelingPress.com

  Editor: Sheri Ross Carucci

  Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

  This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  Prologue

  The sorcerer looked up from his packing, his bushy white beard almost obscuring his wary smile. “Gentlemen, you just caught me. One more day and I would have been gone!”

  “Gone? Slunk away, more like!”

  “You were right, Jonathan! He was planning to pull a funk and leave us suffering this travesty of a life!”

  His eyebrows rose at the anger he heard in their voices. “To what do I owe this rudeness? The last I knew, you were happily embarked upon a lifetime of eternal existence. Isn’t that what you asked for? ‘The freedom from worrying over our imminent death,’ is how you put it, I believe.”

  Both men spoke at once, their words tumbling over themselves.

  “We didn’t want this! We didn’t ask to be turned into a Vampire and a Werewolf! This isn’t what we sought when we asked for the surety of long life.”

  “We’re chefs, damn it! How the hell can I run a restaurant or season a dish when I’m on a liquid diet?”

  “All we wanted was a normal life, eventually a wife and children.”

  The sorcerer crossed his arms and stared at the two tall men confronting him. He was impressed by their dogged determination in locating him again. After all, he hadn’t made it easy this time around. “You did not seek normalcy. No normal man has the assurance of life. They all roll the dice and more times than not, roll craps.”

  “What you gave us was so far away from normal, the two cannot be compared! You cheated us!”

  A resigned sigh lifted the slight chest of the elderly magicker. “Jonathan Jason Corelli, how have you lived this many years and still not learned who and what you are?”

  Black hair, golden eyes, broad shoulders and long lean limbs -- the twins were more than identical, more than mirror images of the other. They were one. And they didn’t know it.

  “Your mother, whom I once knew and loved -- she’s why I granted your first petition, by the way -- tried to tell you the truth. Your father wouldn’t listen and allowed the doctors to perform that obscene operation upon you. Now, it appears you are as stubborn as he.”

  “Our mother,” one twin snarled, “hasn’t been seen since our tenth birthday.”

  “If we’d known you knew her, we’d have had nothing to do with you.”

  “Oh, you think to pick and choose between sorcerers, then? You know so many of us? Foolish mortal! You play with that which you do not know and cannot comprehend!”

  “Please, just take the curses back.”

  “Curses?” The sorcerer couldn’t believe the pig-headedness of the split person before him. “I granted you a boon. If cursed you be, it is of your own making. Still, you are not satisfied. Therefore, I will do this one thing for you… I will give you a spell to eat. When you partake of it, say the couplet I will teach you. No longer will you, Jonathan, be forced to live a life in darkness. As for you, Jason, the moon will no longer rule over your flesh.”

  He made them the potion and jotted the words down on a scrap of paper. The two read the poem and eyed the twin bottles askance. “Can it be this simple?” the Werewolf asked.

  “Of course not,” the mage laughed, glad to see they were not as simple as he had begun to fear. Perhaps they would solve the riddle and win their freedom. “To truly end what you deem your curse, you must find the one person who completes you.”

  “Is there such a woman in the world, who could mate with the two of us? If she exists, where would we ever find a woman willing to love a Werewolf and a Vampire and accept us both as husbands?” The gold of Jason’s eyes shimmered with the tears he would not allow to fall.

  “Oh, she exists, all right. She is almost ready for you.”

  “I suppose,” snarled the Vampire, his face twisted in a sneer, “you’ll have some obscure, arcane excuse for not being able to tell us where we should look for such a paragon.”

  “On the contrary, I can tell you exactly where you need to be.”

  It took the twins a moment to realize he didn’t plan to tell them a thing.

  “Well?” Jason asked finally.

  “Well… what?” the sorcerer echoed, a wisp of playfulness causing him to tease the uptight duo.

  “I thought you were going to tell us where we need to be.”

  “Actually, I said I could tell you, not that I would.”

  “I’m going to kill him, Jason!” The Vampire flashed fangs and rushed at the older man.

  “I think not, young firebrand.” A waved hand, a word of power rang out. Jonathan froze in place, one foot in the air, clawed hands outstretched toward prey he would never reach.

  “No!” Jason’s cry of denial rose above the spires of the mountain. “Release him!”

  “In due time…” Tired of dealing with the two hotheads, he decided to end this current interaction. He had places to go and people to see. “Listen to me. I will give you the information you want in exchange for permission…”

  Jason’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve tricked us before. How do we know you won’t do so, again?”

  The sorcerer shrugged. “I have not tricked you. You simply didn’t pay strict attention to the actual wording of your request or the exact interpretation I used in granting it.” He waved away Jason’s sputtered retort. “No matter. As of today, I am retired. The only thing I wish of you is permission to court your mother.”

  “What?” Jonathan’s bellow penetrated the bubble of stasis erected around him.

  Jason’s voice was ice cold when he answered. “Our mother is a free agent. Father divorced her years ago in absentia. You don’t need our permission or approval.”

  “Courtesy and tradition demand it.” The wise man shook his head. “What is the youth of today coming to? Oh well, a bargain is a bargain. When the time is right, you will find your mate on Chimera Island.”

  The Sorcerer’s Couplets

  Vampire:

  The darkness within shall hold no sway;

  You’ll walk, henceforth, in the light of day.

  Werewolf:

  You need no longer heed Moon’s call;

  For during her reign you’ll walk man-tall.

  Chapter One

  Chimera.

  Known as the Island of Forbidden Pleasures, it is an island in the midst of the Bermuda Triangle. It is a magical place where fantasies and the wildest of dreams come true.

  Who hasn’t received one of those notices in the mail, one of those, “You have won an all expenses paid week at…” announcements? They usually go directly to the trash, but the people who are fortunate enough to receive invitations to Chimera don’t throw them away.

  If they recei
ve it, they come… or send others in their place. The invitation is never lost, never ignored.

  Driven by some unseen attraction, some power beyond belief, they leave their boring jobs, fruitless searches for decent dates, the mundane world of nine-to-five for a world of imagination, a world of dreams, of potential… illusions.

  … And reach the world of Chimera.

  What they don’t know is that they have entered the realm of the Agency of Extraordinary Mates. Not your average dating service… this one caters to creatures of the ether… to Weres and Vampires, Elves, Faeries, Satyrs, Incubi, and much more.

  It is a world of fantasy, of lust and love, but most of all, it is a world of dreams-come-true for the lucky few who arrive on the pristine shores of…

  Chimera…

  “Well, whaddya think?” Puck popped the thick wad of bubblegum and peeled it off his lips. “Pretty good, huh?”

  “I like the basic concept. Seems a little too romanticized for me, though. Tighten it up and drop some of those ellipses and we can use it as the magazine promo blurb as well as the lead-in on the website.”

  The director absently scribbled a note on her desk calendar. She glanced up and frowned, noting her assistant hadn’t moved. “Today would be nice, Puck. Move your ass and get us some lunch ordered in.”

  The sprite growled an unrepeatable curse. “Why are we working through lunch, again, M? Everyone around us is finding someone to fuck and we’re stuck working.”

  M breathed out a gentle sigh. “Magic and love both require hands-on nurturing. It’s a thankless job, but someone has to do it. Now stop whining and bring me the Sphinx’s file. It’s gonna be hell finding her a mate…”

  Close to quitting time

  “Ma’am, the Corelli brothers are here requesting a meeting.”

  The director of the Agency of Extraordinary Mates swiveled about to face her aide, eyebrows winging up in rare surprise. “So soon? How extraordinary! Did we anticipate their coming to us this early?”

  Her assistant shook his head.

  Brows puckered into a frown, she pulled a calendar pad toward her and scratched a line through one notation. Flipping back through the pages, she scribbled in a new directive. “Well, there you are, Puck. Just goes to show even the best pre-cogs can be tripped up when love or lust enters the equation.”

  Pushing a youthful lock of hair off her ageless forehead, the director leaned back in her chair and twined her fingers into a steeple. “All right, let’s have a look at their file before we have them come back.”

  Puck floated the hefty manila folder over to the director’s desk. It settled gently, the cover folding back to reveal a thick sheaf of papers nestled between. A pair of reading glasses materialized on the top page.

  “Can I get a coffee, babe?” The director held her left hand out as she perched the compact glasses on her nose. She proceeded to scan the pages before her. A steaming cup appeared, level with her hand, and she curled her fingers around the handle as it gained weight. A grateful smile curved her lips. “Thank you, my dear.”

  “Coffee this late in the day is bad for you.”

  “Thank you, Doctor Phil.”

  “Aging yourself, M.” Puck perched on the edge of the desk, his white-blond hair floating in a magical breeze. “The sorcerer really played a head game on those two.”

  The director’s gaze flashed up to meet her assistant’s. His crystalline blue eyes sparkled with mischievous intent. Her mouth tightened in disapproval. “Yes, he did. His actions were unscrupulous and cruel. It has taken the brothers a long time to recover from his irresponsible actions.”

  Puck rocked back, leaned his hands on a non-existing support as his feet left the floor. He folded his legs Indian style and propped his chin on one hand, floating on thin air. “How long do you think it’ll take them to realize what he really did for them?”

  “I haven’t looked into it that far. However, it seems to me without intervention they’ll likely never stumble over the truth.”

  Dancing a lilting jig about the office, the prankster giggled. “Consider the benefit to Chimera, though, if they never do. We’ve gained the services of two studly chefs who’ve certainly improved the quality of the food around here. Then too, there are all those ladies to think of -- what shall they do without the sexual smorgasbords the two brothers have been providing?”

  The director set her cup on the desk and folded her hands across her belly. Her left forefinger tapped up and down. “If I thought for one moment that you had something to do with that original sorry situation…” Her words trailed off, her tone questioning.

  “You’d what? Zap me?” Puck threw back his head and chortled. “Oh, fiddle-di-di, M! You’d best remember how hectic it gets around here without an assistant. Besides, I can categorically state I had absolutely nothing to do with the Corelli brothers and their quest for immortality.”

  “Hmmm…” The director eyed her co-worker with something less than belief. Sighing, she tilted her chair back and rocked a bit, contemplating her next moves. Finally, she straightened her chair, drew it up to the desk and splayed both hands flat on the thick report. “Puck, uncross your lying fingers and go get the guys. I might as well settle this issue before it gets out of hand. The magical culinary feats those two create are part of what makes this place special. We don’t want to upset the apple cart.”

  Puck chuckled as he obediently brought his hand out from behind his back, uncrossing his fingers before showing them to M. “We could always make apple tarts.”

  One skeptically raised eyebrow was his only answer.

  The jokester floated to the door. “Some of us look damn good in an apron, M. Maybe it’s time I reminded you of that -- and other things.” When he reached the door, he turned and faced the director. With a snap of his fingers, his clothes disappeared, replaced by a frilly red apron blazoned across the front with the slogan: Cooks like it hot!

  He turned, presenting his back to her, and M gasped, choking on laughter. The apron was all he wore. Nothing impeded her appreciative view of the long, lean lines of his supple back. His firm, full buttocks -- a woman’s handful -- flexed and shifted as he made his slow, deliberate way to the door. The shadowy outline of more interesting things moved below his waist.

  Taking a page out of her assistant’s book, M sent a mischievous tendril of magic shooting out. Spectral fingers fluttered between Puck’s legs, tickled his balls as an imaginary hand squeezed his cock, bringing it to instant, hard rigidity.

  A startled yelp broke from Puck’s lips. The slender male whipped around to confront her, blue eyes no longer twinkling, but gone incandescent with lust. “Hhmm! You’re not too bad a cook yourself, my M. You’ve certainly raised the temperature and got my juices boiling!”

  A satisfied smile curved M’s lips. “Turn it down to a simmer. It can steep while we deal with our chefs.”

  “You’re on, my dear. No, wait! It’s my turn to be ‘on’ this time.”

  M snorted, shuffling papers. “You wish.”

  Five minutes later, Puck returned to the director’s office, ushering in one man and a wolf. “The Corelli brothers to see you, M.”

  Thick, unruly black hair, tall, lean physique -- the man had golden eyes set between long sooty lashes. The wolf -- a head taller than the man’s waist -- was covered in dense black fur that curled like a cocker spaniel. His eyes were eerily like his brother’s; golden and full of intelligence. M stood up and extended her hand. “Good morning, Jonathan.” She nodded at the wolf. “Jason.”

  The man shook hands briefly, his perfunctory smile not broad enough to reveal his fangs. “Madam Director.”

  Jason woofed and offered one paw in greeting. M bit back a grin as she reached down to shake it. “I see you are the more personable brother.” Her smile softened. “While you make a remarkable wolf, I think we’ll have a better chance to communicate if you take Human form during the course of this interview. Puck, please take Jason to the lounge and see he has
a set of clothes for after his change.”

  A wicked grin widening his mouth, Puck snapped his fingers and chanted, “Here, doggie, doggie, doggie!”

  Growling, the wolf’s head whipped around, targeting the teasing Sidhe, but it was the Vampire’s hissed warning that wiped the smile off the assistant’s face. “Sorry!” he groused. “Some folks just can’t take a joke.”

  The director clicked her tongue against her teeth and sighed in disgust. Giving her resident pain-in-the-ass a meaningful glare, she reminded him of items on the back of the stove. “Puck, you’re cooling things down, here.”

  She looked to the Corelli brothers, an apologetic expression on her face. “I apologize for my assistant’s… puckish sense of humor. Pay him no mind. He honestly can’t help it.” Her dark brown gaze snagged Jason. “The sooner you go change, the sooner you can get back and we can begin processing your request.”

  With an assenting woof, the wolf padded toward the door and a subdued Puck. He made his less than friendly sentiments known with a rumbling growl as he passed the momentarily cowed and silent Fae.

  Left behind, Jonathan was a bit more verbal about his displeasure. “Your assistant likes to joke around too much. You might want to tell him to watch what he eats for the next few days, ma’am.”

  “Oh, come now, Jonathan. Would you punish a child? As a member of one of the long-lived races, Puck may exhibit physical maturity and age, but his mental development more closely corresponds to that of a randy eighteen-year-old prankster.”

  The Vampire’s expression tightened. “My brother must live half his life as an animal, ma’am. The last thing he needs is to be teased about it.”

  “From what I can see, Jason is more at ease with his situation than you are with yours.”

  Muttering a low expletive, Jonathan Corelli paced the office, his impatient strides making the huge space seem narrow and confined. Running his hands through his midnight hair, inadvertently disrupting the ordered curls, he tugged at the thick strands, long elegant fingers clenching in agitation. “Hell, no, I’m not at ease with my situation. I’m a chef, damn it, and the only way I can taste food now is through my mental link with Jason. I’m on a perpetual liquid diet and every once in a while, I still catch my bottom lip with these gawd-awful fangs.”