by M. L. Briers
Marshall was gaining a foothold, she could feel it, but she wasn’t giving up without a fight. She heard Claudia within her mind, scolding her, encouraging her, ordering her to push Marshall out, and she felt a bone-chilling shudder go through her.
The tortured scream of the man echoed through the room as he was forced into the waiting vessel. She yanked her hand from Neal’s and threw herself at the lid, snapping it into place, before she collapsed onto her stomach on the floor, drained of strength and with a strangely empty feeling as if Marsh Weathers had taken a part of her when he’d left.
“Marilyn!” Neal yelled, thrashing about, trying to break free from his bonds to see what was happening.
“Relax, He-Man,” Claudia said, appearing on the other side of the circle and looking down at him. “The big, bad ghost is gone.”
“I’d like you to release me now,” Neal replied, and she pulled her head back on her neck and frowned.
“What do I look like, your servant?” Claudia said and strolled into the circle and over to Marilyn. Her friend stared up at her, slightly breathless, and very pale. “Hey now, your boyfriend’s back,” Claudia sang, and she heard Marilyn groan. “Okay, now that’s most definitely you,” she grinned and held out her hand for Marilyn to take.
“I’m just gonna lie here for a minute or two, feel free to get me a glass of wine,” Marilyn said.
“Could somebody please unspell these chains so I can get up?” Neal demanded.
Claudia couldn’t help herself, she started to snicker, and that set Marilyn off, and before they could stop it, they were chuckling like idiots.
“I think they’re already drunk,” Louann said to Lottie.
“I think I left a hunky shifter around here somewhere,” Lottie replied and took off for the hallway.
Louann rolled her eyes, sometimes she could just despair at Lottie’s behaviour, and other time, like now, she envied being that free-spirited.
“Don’t worry, Grandma Lou,” Amber whispered on her way by. “I’m sure this whole man thing isn’t catching.”
“Say what?” Louann said, twisting to watch her granddaughter go, and she didn’t look back.
“Don’t look at me,” Sandy said, holding up her hands to her chest as she walked by. “I’m new to this whole mate thing.”
“What mate thing?” Louann asked, but realised that they’d all left her. She twisted on her heels and followed them out into the hall. “Who’s a mate now?” she called.
“That would be me,” Cain said.
Louann stopped and eyed him from head to toe and back again. “To who?” she demanded.
“To you,” Cain said, and she snapped her head back and eyed him again as he offered her one hell of a smile.
“Pah! I’d eat you for breakfast,” she informed him and took off after Lottie and the others.
“Now that I can believe,” Cain grumbled. He eyed the inside of the room where his mate and Marilyn were sitting on the floor chuckling. He couldn’t help but smile.
Maybe, just maybe, he’d misjudged his mate.
“Hello!” Neal said and set the witches off into another fit of chuckles.
Or then again, maybe not.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
~
Claudia kicked her shoes off, dragged her feet up onto the cold cushion of the outside lounger, and reached down to tuck the super-soft blanket under her toes. She loved the cold, crisp autumn nights when the stars were putting on a magnificent display above her, and she could lose herself in the silence.
With a bottle of beer in her hand; she starred at the sky and let the stress of the day ease away from her taut muscles and aching bones. This trip back home certainly wasn’t turning out how she’d expected it to go. A big, sexy, growly beast of a hunk hadn’t been on her list of things to pick up while she was visiting, but then she’d decided to stay for a while, and now look what happened – fated mates – ugh!
Claudia thought she probably should have left when she’d had the chance, but who knew that fate would deliver her a blow like that? Heck, she’d gone decades tiptoeing around that messy and claustrophobic entanglement of marriage and all it entailed, and now she was staring doom in the face.
The back door opened, and Cain stepped out into the moon's light and the rows of neatly draped fairy lights that complemented the stars and reminded her of the warm feeling that she got from Christmas. He didn’t feel like Christmas, or maybe he was that present that you didn’t want to open because you knew it would be socks and you’d have to look happy about it.
Cain took a slow walk towards her, and like a child at the sight of the Christmas presents under the tree, her heart took on a new beat that was all for him. He certainly put a Christmas tree in the shade with those broad shoulders, thick muscled arms, and a chest full of muscles – who wouldn’t want to rip off the wrapping and get a good look at what was inside?
Claudia caught herself thinking that way. Yes, he was a treat for the eyes, but she didn’t think that picturing him naked was the way to calm her heart rate or the little fluttering in her stomach – more beer should do the trick. She took a big swig. “When did you know?” she demanded, piercing him with her gaze and causing him to pull up short of where she was sitting.
“Know what – that we were mates?” His deep gravelly tones sounded more potent in the semi-darkness and with a little more booze inside of her, and that wasn’t good for her feminine senses which were already in overdrive. She’d been attracted to him before, but now that she knew he was hers that itch had become scratchable, and she didn’t like where that was going.
Claudia nodded. She’d had a great sarcastic throwaway line to shoot him between the eyes with, but she’d held her tongue. That wasn’t like her at all.
“I was attracted to you the first time I saw you…”
“You were rude…”
“Pulling pigtails, I guess,” he offered her a strained smile, and she guessed he wasn’t best pleased with the revelation that they were ‘made for each other’ either. “But I had an idea earlier today when we were getting the chains for Neal.”
“Is that why you wouldn’t ride in the car with me?” Claudia asked.
“No, that was because you really are a horrible driver,” he tossed back and folded two muscle packed arms across his broad chest. She noticed. “But, I guess the first time it crossed my mind in earnest would have been at eighties night.”
“You were rude then as well,” she reminded him.
“More pigtails,” he said, and cracked a smile. It wasn’t a full-on beam, but it was enough to make her sit up a little taller on the lounger and pay attention, and that made her feel uncomfortable.
“So, your idea to woo me was to pull my pigtails?” Claudia asked, and she could have slapped her hand over her mouth because bringing up wooing and all that implied was not a good idea.
Cain’s smile grew, and she thought it looked good on him, although that whole broody, moody thing that he had going on was damn sexy too. “No, I had no intention on wooing you – then,” he added when she’d thought she’d gotten away with it and was about to change the subject.
“Don’t you have a mate?” she asked, curious about Josh’s mother – the woman that she’d imagined as the she-wolf from hell.
Cain frowned and gave a small shake of his head. “Josh’s mother and I were just thrown together by chance, and a stupid act of irresponsibility on my part…”
“Ooo, accidental pregnancy?” That thought had been Claudia’s worst nightmare back in the day when she was younger.
Cain nodded. “I stepped up,” he said.
Claudia admired that; a lot of men would have run the other way, and she had to give him kudos for staying around. “Where is she now?” she asked with a quick little prayer that the woman hadn’t died – things were awkward enough between them.
“Mated,” Cain said with a shrug.
Claudia had to admit that she hadn’t seen that coming, and that wa
s also awkward – did she commiserate with him? Was he hurt by it? “Oh,” she said, for the want of not knowing how to react.
Cain’s smile grew wider, and she was hooked. He didn’t look like Mr Growly-Pants now; he couldn’t have looked any sexier if the devil himself delivered the shifter naked on a platter in front of her. “I’m happy for her; everyone should find their mate. I’m only sorry it’s taken me this long to find mine.”
Claudia wasn’t sure how to answer that, so she said nothing, but she did take another big swig of beer. “Don’t you have some place to be, something to do with your time?” She didn’t look at him because she didn’t want to get trapped by that smile again.
“What could be more important than wooing my mate?” Cain asked, knowing that one would hit her right between the eyes, and it did.
Claudia snapped a look at him. “Living to tomorrow,” she hissed.
“Without my mate?” he asked. “Sounds a little pointless.”
Claudia had no answer for that. She took another swig on the beer and found the bottle empty. Drat! It seemed as if life was out to get her.
“Do you want another one of those?” Cain asked, amused.
“Now you’re talking my language,” she said and shooed him away.
Cain went, but only because he needed a bottle as well. He had the distinct impression that wooing his mate might not be so damn easy.
~
Neal thrust the mobile in his back pocket and delivered the news to Marilyn. “Scott is fine. He managed to make himself something to eat, and he doesn’t need his nappy changed because he found the big potty with the flushy handle that makes the water…”
“All right, I get it,” Marilyn said; lowering her chin and eyeing his from beneath her long eyelashes. “I’m overprotective; I’m a mother, so sue me,” she said with a certain amount of relish.
Neal had to chuckle. He got it, she’d do anything for her kids, and he could understand that. That’s why he was protecting Scott. “Now, I have a bone to pick with you.”
“Me?” She’d never looked more innocent, but then he knew she could act when she wanted to, he’d seen it in action.
“What did you think you were doing back there with Weathers?” he demanded.
Marilyn frowned. “Taking care of a problem,” she said as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. “A problem you caused, I might add.”
“Of course you’d add that because you want me to feel guilty about killing Jar boy,” he said, motioning to the jar that was now residing on the mantelpiece as if it held a special place there.
“Golf guy.”
“I like mine better,” Neal said, and walked to the mantle to stand looking at the nondescript ornament. “Can he hear us?”
“I don’t think so,” Marilyn said with a small smile.
“I wanted to tell him that he sucked,” Neal said.
“Well, if it makes you feel better, go ahead,” Marilyn said, motioning to the jar. “People talk to gravestones all the time.”
“It’s a jar, not a gravestone…”
“Think of it like an urn holding his ashes,” Marilyn said and hid her smile behind her hand.
Neal frowned as he mulled that over. “People will think I’m nuts,” he grumbled, but he’d sure like to give that ghost a piece of his mind.
“Meh, people know you’re nuts, so you have nothing to lose,” she said with a shrug.
Neal eyed her for a long moment; narrowing his eyes and letting them travel up and down her body before bringing his gaze back to hers. “Did I ever tell you that I think you’re irritating at times?”
“No,” she said.
“Well, I do,” he said with the attitude of a spoilt child who was pushing back against authority. He even pouted a little.
“Well, if you find me so irritating then why do you keep coming back for more?”
“I don’t know,” he said and took a moment to stare at the ceiling and mull that over. “Maybe I hate myself and enjoy the torture aspect to being around you…”
“Well, let me help with that,” Marilyn said, and promptly turned on her heels. She was out of the room and in the hallway before he caught up to her. “Back for more?” She grinned.
“What can I say – I’m a poor, tortured soul in need of…”
“Saving?”
“Definitely,” he said with a nod as he motioned for her to go ahead of him into the kitchen.
“Again?” Marilyn asked. “How many times must I come to your rescue because it’s getting old?” Lottie slapped a glass into her hand and Marilyn starred at the margarita.
“What’s a witch without a margarita?” Lottie said, looking a little tipsy, but very happy. “And it is after the witching hour.”
“Thanks,” Marilyn said, and Lottie waved her hand and twirled towards Hank, who handed her a frosty glass. “Here,” she said, passing the glass off to Neal who frowned at it.
“Not my thing – now whiskey…”
“You have a super sniffy nose, find the booze yourself,” Marilyn said, turning on her heels and escaping the room. She just wanted a moment’s peace from all of the mayhem and madness that seemed to be swelling around her lately, but with a house full of guests, she couldn’t find it.
Cain strolled towards the kitchen just as Neal was coming out. “Here,” he said, and pushed the glass into the shifter’s hand.
“Do I look female to you?” Cain grumbled.
“Give it to a witch, I hear they like them,” Neal called back over his shoulder.
“Which witch?”
“The first one you come across,” Neal called back as he followed on Marilyn’s heels.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
~
“Stop following me,” Marilyn hissed. She didn’t have to turn around to know he was right behind her. “You’re not a puppy, and I don’t take in strays.”
“Then I guess I’m the better person,” Neal said.
Marilyn turned a curious look on him. “How so?”
“I took in your son,” he said and wiggled his eyebrows at her as he folded his arms and waited for her to chew that one over.
“That’s not the point,” she said, and finally found a soft chair to collapse into. She let out a groan as her body thanked her for the reprieve. Neal sat on the arm of the chair opposite her and raised his eyebrows in expectation. She groaned again. “Fine, you’re a better person than I am.”
“Excellent, thank you…”
“Even if technically, you’re not a person…”
“Still a person.” He held up his index finger and wagged it at her.
“You’re dead,” she whispered like it was a secret.
Neal offered her the kind of easy smile that she was sure had disarmed many women over many lifetimes. Well, it didn’t work with her – or, she didn’t admit to it. “And yet, still a person.”
Marilyn lifted her witching finger and pointed to the cabinet. “Whiskey – two – you pour.”
Neal pushed up and walked across the room. “No rum and coke tonight?” he asked with a teasing smile back at her.
“Tonight I feel like a grown-up,” she informed him. “I’ll tell you when I’m back in my rebellious stage.”
“I quite like your eighties outfits,” he said, pouring two glasses and strolling back over to her. “It reminds me of…”
“No history lessons tonight, and no stupid pickup lines,” Marilyn warned him, taking the glass and nodding her thanks.
“How about some classy pickup lines?” Neal asked, settling into the chair opposite her.
“Just a little peace and…”
“Well, you can take that margarita and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine!” Claudia’s voice rang out, and she turned her head to see her friend marching across the hallway, swinging her arms like she was a soldier on parade, and there was Cain following on behind her carrying a glass.
Neal chuckled to himself and drew her attention back to him. “Not my fault
,” he said, holding up just the one hand in mock surrender.
“They’re mates,” she informed him.
“So I heard,” Neal said and grinned. “I also heard what you said to me when I was otherwise occupied with the ghost persona.”
Marilyn slipped down in her chair a little, she hoped it made her look more comfortable, but in truth, she might have been hoping to disappear inside the cushions. She didn’t look at him.
“Not so fast with a reply to that one, are you?”
“I have no idea…”
“Let me help…”
“Wish you wouldn’t,” she rushed out. “Let the past be in the past.”
“Stay with me – come back to me…”
“You really aren’t a gentleman, are you?” she tossed back.
Neal chuckled. “We both know the answer to that one,” he said. “But, you’re deflecting.”
“I never do that,” Marilyn said with a shrug.
“Now, you’re just playing for time.”
“Me?” she asked, all wide-eyed and innocent.
Neal gave a little hum. “Innocence personified in just a look, but I see you, Marilyn, and I’m not going to let you deflect.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m curious…”
“Why?”
“You’re not a toddler, and you can’t answer a question with a question…”
“Why?” she asked, and almost snickered into her glass when he groaned.
“Because it’s rude, for one thing, and I’m like a dog with a bone for another,” he answered.
“Fine,” she said, trying to sound irritated, but her eyes said differently. They sparkled with amusement. “It was like telling the ghost to go towards the light…”
“Rubbish!”
“Huh?” she looked momentarily confused. “Gentleman – not.”
“For calling you out?”
“For calling me a liar…”
“That’s what I said…”
“Not what I heard.”