Unicorn of Glass (Fae Shifter Knights Book 2) Read online

  Unicorn of Glass

  Zoe Chant

  Contents

  Fae Shifter Knights

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Epilogue

  A Thank You from Zoe

  The Dragon Prince of Alaska

  Shifting Sands Resort

  Green Valley Shifters

  Sneak Preview of The Dragon Prince of Alaska…

  Fae Shifter Knights

  Unicorn of Glass is a complete, standalone romance with no cliffhangers, however, it is part of a four book series, and is best read after Dragon of Glass.

  Chapter 1

  The Christmas bell by the door jingled as Heather came in, Vesta prancing happily at her feet. The holiday chime might be an odd sound to hear in July, but not nearly as odd as the Christmas music inside. Heather was sweating in the humid Georgia heat, even though they had only ducked out into it for a moment. Matters were not at all helped by the heavy green velvet ‘elf’ dress she was wearing. She peeled the fake fur from her neck as she stepped into the frigid air conditioning.

  It was probably ninety outside, and comparatively it felt like fifty inside, though the thermostat behind the counter showed a perfectly livable seventy.

  “I’m back!” Heather hollered towards the back of the store, pouring water from her bottle into the dog bowl underneath the register. Vesta lapped it up eagerly and crawled onto the pillow next to it, her wiry little tail beating out a rhythm as she settled down to nap at Heather’s feet.

  “We got a box!” Julie crowed, coming from the back room of the shop just as Heather observed the delivery waiting on the counter. “Who gets to open it?”

  Fred and Angie, the owners of the Ornament Shoppe, spent most of the summer touring the country in an RV, finding kitschy Christmas-themed treasure from all over the world in antique shops and at flea markets. Most of it came home with them in the fall in a trailer, but through the summer, they would ship some of it back.

  Some of the things that Fred and Angie found defied belief: a horrifying wind-up laughing Santa Claus whose head popped off in a spray of red ribbons, a team of reindeer made entirely made of spoons and forks, a nativity scene made of metal dinosaurs, a can of Christmas turkey from the forties...and there were always new ornaments.

  The Ornament Shoppe claimed it carried more ornaments than any other shop in the world, though Heather privately wondered if that was a statement that ever could or would be proven. It certainly had a lot. There were wooden ornaments, blown glass ornaments, metal ornaments, cheap plastic ornaments, popsicle-stick ornaments, cloth ornaments, papercraft ornaments, and balls of plastic and glass.

  There was an entire aisle of Hallmark collectibles, and rows of weird geeky ornaments for television shows that had been off the air for decades, ethnic ornaments from all over the world, handmade ornaments, one-of-a-kind ornaments, even mechanical ornaments.

  If there was an animal, no matter how obscure or imaginary, they had an ornament for it. If there was a hobby or sport, they had an ornament for it. They even had a Santaur ornament, with a half-horse, half-naked, disturbingly sexy Santa.

  “It’s your turn for the honor,” Heather said with a sigh. “I’ll watch the register. But if you find any Italian Greyhounds, I need to know.”

  “You know I’m always looking out for the Iggies,” Julie said. She leaned over the counter. “Hi, Vesta.”

  Vesta gave a whine in greeting, her little tail wagging faster, and she scrambled to her feet.

  “No jumping,” Heather cautioned her, as the tiny dog appeared to be gauging the distance up to the counter. Italian Greyhounds frequently thought they could fly, and she’d already coughed up the vet bills for one broken bone when Vesta was a puppy.

  Vesta eyed Heather, testing her resolve, and when Heather stared her down, gave a large sigh for her small frame and lay down on the floor to sulk.

  Julie hefted the box as the door bells announced a new cluster of customers. “Have fun,” she said, winking as she walked away, the skirt of her own elf costume bouncing as she went.

  “Hi,” Heather called to the party that had just entered. It was a group of middle-aged women who looked overheated and uninterested. Heather wasn’t sure if they were looking for something in particular—the shop didn’t do much business in July—or if they were just looking for a place more interesting than a grocery store that had air conditioning to pace around in and gossip. “Welcome to the Ornament Shoppe. Let me know if you need any help finding anything!”

  They gave her the expected polite murmurs of dismissal and vanished back into the aisles. Heather could hear them complaining about the weather and the traffic and their children.

  She was sorting receipts and wondering if the air conditioner in her apartment would be working when she got home when they re-emerged, their conversation having shifted to catty gossip about someone who wasn’t with them. One of them had a clearance box of Christmas cards to purchase. Another had found an ornament they wanted and was carrying it carefully in their hands.

  “Francine is crazy about unicorns,” the woman said, laying it down on the counter after their friend had finished their purchase. “She’s going to love this.”

  Heather completely forgot about the receipts she was sorting, her apartment, the itchy velvet she was wearing, and the small dog lying near her feet.

  It was an ornament she hadn’t seen before, a blue, blown glass unicorn rearing in a ring of white glass, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it had to be hers.

  “I can’t sell you that,” she blurted.

  The customers stared at her.

  “I’m sorry,” she stammered, scrambling for a reason more coherent than simply that’s mine and you can’t have it. “That…ah…wasn’t supposed to go out on display. It’s being…it’s reserved! I’m so sorry for the mixup! We have a few more unicorns in stock, I think. I can look them up in the computer for you.”

  The patron, a thin woman with an expensive haircut, looked confused and disgusted. “I wanted this one,” she said defensively, and she made a quick motion like she was going to pick the ornament back up.

  Heather’s blood roared in her ears and her heart pounded as she stepped forward to snatch it away. “You can’t have it!”

  Unfortunately, she managed to step directly onto Vesta’s tail, and the Italian Greyhound gave a yelp of surprise and pain and scurried out from under the counter as Heather, trying to catch herself before her full weight was down on the dog’s tail, made a dive for the ornament.

  The customer had picked up the gold thread it was hanging on, but Heather had her fingers on the glass, and for a split second, her entire world went away. All she could hear was a ringing battle call, and she was surrounded by pure light and…a compelling presence. Out of the light, there was a draft horse-sized unicorn, white neck arching as he l
owered his gleaming golden horn towards her.

  Her entire body was on fire, and she was filled with longing.

  Julie’s voice broke the spell. “What the hell, Heather?”

  Heather managed to pry her fingers from the cool glass and the ornament she’d yanked away from the customer fell a scant inch to the counter top. “I don’t know,” she gasped. The ornament appeared to have survived the drop without damage, but Heather didn’t dare pick it up or touch it again.

  Vesta was whining at her feet, and the gaggle of customers on the other side of the counter was looking at her like she’d lost her mind.

  Which, Heather had to admit, was a distinct possibility.

  “I wanted this ornament,” the client whined.

  Julie looked from her to Heather. “It’s not for sale,” she said firmly. “I’m happy to find you another similar one.”

  “I don’t want another one,” the thin woman complained. “I want this one. I want to talk to the manager about this.”

  “I’m the manager,” Julie bluffed. “This ornament wasn’t supposed to be put out. I’m very sorry to disappoint you. Can I offer you a Christmas in July postcard?”

  Barely mollified, the tourists took their glossy cards and stomped back out to their cars.

  Heather was keenly aware of Julie’s concerned gaze but her own eyes kept being drawn back to the ornament on the counter.

  “Thanks,” Heather said, when she’d finally caught her breath. “I’m not really sure what happened.”

  Julie reached over her, and before Heather could warn her away, had picked up the ornament. “It’s pretty, but I’m not sure what the big deal about it is. I didn’t know you were unicorn-crazy.”

  And nothing happened to her.

  Heather waited for the swooning and the flushing, but Julie only frowned at the sparkling glass piece.

  “I…I don’t know, maybe I had a hallucination or something,” Heather said weakly. “I just knew that the ornament was mine, and then I...saw…” She couldn’t quite admit that she’d seen a unicorn.

  “You’ve been pulling long days,” Julie observed with concern. “Did you get heatstroke walking Vesta? Maybe you should head home early.”

  Heather reached down to where Vesta was trying to get her attention and picked up the wriggling dog. “Sorry about your tail, sweetie,” she told the greyhound, who proved her forgiveness with her tongue. “I’ve been drinking only water, I promise,” she told Julie. “But maybe the nonstop Christmas music finally gave me a psychotic break. I think I will go home early.”

  “Don’t forget your unicorn,” Julie said, and Heather could only stare at it. Her unicorn.

  “Do you want me to wrap it up for you?” Julie offered after an awkward pause.

  “Yeah,” Heather said in relief. “Could you?”

  Julie wrapped the ornament carefully in tissue paper and tucked it into a box while Heather gathered up Vesta’s leash and toys, trying not to be too obvious about her anxiousness while Julie casually handled the fragile ornament and put it into a bag. Heather paid the price on the tag out of her purse.

  “Stay cool,” Julie called, as she finally left, opening the door out into the sweltering heat.

  Heather thought wryly that it was far too late for that.

  Rez felt the touch of the witch, the seductive caress of her fingers over his glass prison, and his first instinct was to fall into the beauty of her.

  The knight’s second impulse was to strike out, because there was clearly magic at work here, and magic had betrayed his shieldmates.

  He didn’t trust either inclination, but he knew, in a dazed way, that everything was wrong. He was nowhere and everywhere, floating in a haze of light that lit nothing. There were no limbs to command to kick, human or unicorn, and he was distressingly powerless.

  It was easiest to concentrate on her.

  She was not powerless, as was obvious by her effect on Rez. The spell felt subtle, convincing in its gentle persuasion. All he had to do was relax, embrace the promise of her presence, and she would free him…

  Which was entirely too good to be true, and Rez had seen too much deceit to believe such absurd fairy tales. It was a trap.

  He would resist her with the last strength left within him.

  Chapter 2

  Heather kicked the door shut behind her and groaned as she put her bag and purse on the table and Vesta on the cheap vinyl tile. The greyhound went prancing across the room with a cheerful clack of her toenails to greedily drink from her water dish.

  “Sure, you’ve got energy,” Heather griped. “You didn’t have to walk up three flights of stairs wearing velvet when it’s ninety degrees.”

  Her apartment was as hot inside as it was outside, and it smelled stuffy on top of that. Heather muttered curse words under her breath as she went to inspect the air conditioner. Pressing buttons did nothing. She growled and went to the kitchen, where the fuse box was hidden behind a wall quilt of polar bears and penguins.

  She envied anyone who got to live on a block of ice right now.

  Sure enough, the fuse in question had been blown. Heather flipped the switch, and the air conditioner grumbled to life...for about ten seconds.

  Snap!

  The fuse tripped off again while she was watching it.

  Heather swore under her breath, then switched the fuse again. “Come on, come on, come on,” she begged as the air conditioner wheezed and tried to start.

  Snap!

  “Motherfu-” Heather bit back her expletive and stomped to her purse to dig out her phone.

  “Whaaaaah?” her landlord answered impatiently. Was he drunk?

  “Hi, Marcus,” Heather said as brightly as she could manage. “Heather, of apartment 35. The air conditioner is blowing the fuse. Again.”

  Marcus swore more creatively than Heather had. “Didja let it cool off?” His words were slurred, confirming her guess.

  “Believe me,” Heather said as calmly as she could manage. “It hasn’t been running all afternoon. It’s ninety degrees in here.” She didn’t think she was exaggerating, but since the thermostat readout didn’t work either, she couldn’t check.

  “When I can,” Marcus grudgingly promised.

  “I appreciate it,” Heather said through gritted teeth. “Sooner would be better.”

  Marcus muttered something non-committal and hung up.

  “Same to you, asshole,” Heather said to the dead line.

  She tugged at the neck of her dress, desperate for the merest hint of a draft between her sweaty skin and the cloying velvet.

  Vesta, not the slightest bit bothered by the heat, jumped up onto the table and nosed at the bag from The Ornament Shoppe.

  Her unicorn, Heather remembered abruptly. Her magical unicorn ornament.

  She unwrapped in carefully, wondering if the tingle of anticipation was anything more than her own unexplainable excitement. She remembered the vision she’d had, and more than that, the desire that had threatened to swamp her.

  Was it just a crazed manifestation of the fact that she’d been living like a nun for far too long? Had she been drugged? She hadn’t taken anything stronger than an ibuprofen in weeks, but maybe she’d walked through some kind of...experimental chemical discharge on her way to the parking lot. Maybe it was magic.

  Every option that she could think of was nuttier than the last.

  So, maybe she’d only imagined the whole thing.

  Except that...

  The beautiful ornament lay in a nest of tissue paper in her hands, and Heather felt like she was being pulled to it, irresistibly. She wanted to touch it, she yearned to see the unicorn again.

  She felt like it was begging her to caress it.

  Magic.

  It was definitely magic.

  It was July, and a magical Christmas ornament was begging for her touch.

  “Well, Vesta,” she finally said, “I’m either nuts or this is the start of a very confused Hallmark holiday movie.�
�

  Well, she knew how those played out. And it usually started with a kiss.

  Without letting her fingers touch it, she closed her eyes, raised it to her mouth and gave it a brief, feather-light brush of her lips.

  The kiss began with the cool touch of glass that she expected, then light flashed against her closed eyelids. Vesta gave a yip of surprise and Heather opened her eyes to find herself nose-to-nipple with a broad expanse of sculpted chest.

  Chapter 3

  The touch of her perfect mouth broke the spell with a bell-like tone that Rez was sure must ring through the entire kingdom.

  He knew at once that he was somewhere completely alien; he was in a strange room with several windows of remarkably smooth glass panes. There was a padlocked door, and a short hallway leading to more open doors. Odd benches and boxes cluttered the room. The furniture was all finely crafted, and the couch was covered in a tapestry of gold and green.

  It was uncomfortably hot and humid, and a small gray hound was cavorting at his feet, its tiny nose twitching in curiosity.

  None of his shieldmates were nearby, and Rez felt that loss like the cut of a knife. Did the woman before him have something to do with their disappearance, or was her seduction of him independent of their downfall?

  Because there was no doubt that she was attempting to seduce him.

  She was standing an unseemly distance from him, so close that he could feel her breath against his chest, and he looked directly down onto the swells of her breasts above a low-cut dress in the richest of green velvets trimmed with white fur. Her rich, sepia skin looked as touchably soft as her dress, and her wide brown eyes were pools of warmth and wonder.