The Witch and the Werewolf

by C. D. Gorri

  Her foolish heart had chosen most unsuitably. A Werewolf who would put his Pack before her. Oh Seff.

  The object of her desire had slipped away during the night. Slipped away like the thief he was. True, he left her a note. A note! The dog!

  She opened it and could have howled her rage. He told her to forget about him, he explained that he had nothing to give her.

  We have no future. Last night is in the past. Forget me.

  Sherry grieved for what could have been, but she was not one to wallow. Head held high, she set the note aflame with but a wave of her ring adorned hands. She packed up the small apartment with another flick of her wrist and was gone within the hour.

  Forget the Wolf and move on.

  If only it was that easy.

  CHAPTER 1

  PRESENT DAY. MACCONWOOD, the property owned by the Pack just outside of Maccon City, New Jersey.

  Seff sighed as he got out of Charley’s fully loaded, cherry red, Range Rover. How his Alpha’s wife loved that freaking car! He shook his head as he ducked against the rain.

  Loved it so much, that he had younger members of the Pack washing the thing by hand every other day. Seff grimaced at the thought that he might scratch the highly polished paint when he lugged out the massive spare and the flat tire kit from the trunk of the SUV. Better be careful, or Rafe will have my ass.

  Cold rain assailed him like stinging pellets, and he shivered despite his being a hot-blooded Werewolf. His beast chortled in his mind’s eye and Seff grunted. Real funny!

  His Wolf was quite the character lately, especially with the gap between man and beast narrowing with every passing day. You go, Grazi!

  She was the teen Wolf who was battling to end the Curse of Natalis. The curse kept all Werewolves from their Wolf side except for nights of the full moon. The young girl, whom Seff had met on occasion, was working tirelessly to demolish the ancient edict.

  Seff had no doubt the fearsome she-Wolf would emerge victorious. The evidence was in the fact that he could clearly see and feel his buff colored Wolf round the clock. A first for him.

  Seff reveled in the closeness of his other half. He was learning to control the sensory overload that came with having his Wolf on hand twenty-four hours a day. It was not always easy, but he’d manage and so would the others.

  A huge wet drop flopped into his left eye and he blinked to readjust his sight. Stupid rain! Perfect weather for a flat! He rolled his eyes and took in the obviously deflated tire. Well, shit on my luck!

  The sound of the window rolling down caught his attention. He looked back and smiled encouragingly at his Alpha’s mate. The former deli-worker, now Alpha female, regardless of the fact that she was a normal, was hugely rounded this late in her pregnancy.

  That was the reason why he was standing outside in the biting wind and rain changing a tire. Charley had been restless and uncomfortable all day and was about to go for a ride alone when he’d offered to take her. Otherwise, he’d have been warm and dry at home. Yeah, cause being home and alone was so much better.

  Of course, he didn’t have to be alone. He could’ve gone with some friends to The Thirsty Dog. His Wolf growled inside his head.

  Not that he didn’t enjoy hanging out in the local Werewolf owned bar. His brother and Packmates certainly did. It was just that lately, he didn’t feel like putting on a show for the guys at the bar.

  Who needed their shit when he refused to take home any of the willing women at the place? And there were many. Normals couldn’t help being attracted to the natural vitality of Werewolves, but he was not interested.

  Casual encounters had lost their appeal long ago. They left him feeling empty and, oddly enough, guilty as hell. Don’t go there. Seff was alone in the world. It was past time he accepted it. Not true. There is one person who could make you feel again.

  A phone call and an apology wouldn’t be enough to cure him of his lonely state. No matter how much he feared it would become his permanent state. Still, it wasn’t like he could just drop her a text. Not when he walked away like that. Shut up and grow a pair, he told himself firmly.

  This was becoming a regular thing for him. He pushed his hair out of his face as he grabbed the tire iron and missed the first time. Fuck, when would he stop thinking about her? Never. Duh.

  His old Alpha’s voice infiltrated his mind and he growled as he worked the flat tire free. The only good Witch is a dead Witch, my boy. Pack first, Seff, you put the Pack first and you can’t go wrong.

  And isn’t that what he always did? He left the girl, the one, he was sure of it, for his Pack! He had turned his back on her and on his heart. And he’d never looked back.

  Nope. Seff had responsibilities. He needed to look out for his brother and it was with that in mind that he had set to work. He’d busted his ass studying Pack politics and making use of his unassuming appearance to turn himself into the perfect Beta.

  He stood just about six-foot tall, as most Wolves did. His build; however, was wiry and lean, unlike most of the hulking dominant Wolves he knew. He preferred his hair cut short, his face cleanly shaved, and his clothes neat.

  His affable exterior meant others let their guard down around him. A mistake that often lead to their downfall. He was brutal to the Pack’s enemies and when hot tempers and thick heads within their ranks needed a smack down, he was the one to initiate that delivery.

  Seff was a good and loyal Beta to Rafe. Stronger and smarter than he looked, he was a valuable asset to the Pack. His knack for diplomacy and his ability to read people was vital to his position.

  His old Alpha was a right bastard, and he couldn’t have been happier to see him go. Especially, when Rafe Maccon stepped into the position.

  Seff believed in Rafe and his plans for the Pack’s future. It was why he worked tirelessly to aid Rafe and his Packmates in any way he could. It was also why he was outside in the freezing rain in the dead of night.

  In her state, Charley was in no condition to drive by herself. Heck, he wasn’t even sure she could get behind the wheel. Not that he’d tell her that. She’d probably feed him Chef Boyardee for a week if he did. Sad whine.

  No way. He couldn’t risk her taking it out on him by denying him her delicious pasta sauce. He’d kept his comments to himself. But with their Alpha away and her in her delicate condition, Seff had gently insisted on accompanying her.

  Good thing too. She’d never have been able to change a flat by herself. Not with her “precious cargo” and certainly not in this weather. Feminism aside, even if she were the heartiest female, Seff would still be the one to change the tire. He’d been raised to treat women with a certain amount of courtesy and chivalry.

  Not that she noticed. Damn it. Just when he thought he stopped thinking about her, she would creep into his mind again. Sherry Morgan was the one mistake in his otherwise pretty damn impressive history with women.

  Not that she was just a woman, no, that would have been too easy. She was a Witch. A White Witch, but still, she practiced magic. Magic is not to be trusted. The words of his former Alpha rang clearly in his head.

  Zev Maccon had been a madman and a bit of a sadist, but after Seff had lost his parents, Zev had seen to his education. He made sure Seff and his younger brother, Liam, were taken care of. Sure, the old fucker he’d stuck him with was a little mad with age, but they had had a roof over their heads and food in their bellies.

  Because of his keen mind and unquestionable loyalty to the Pack, Seff had been quickly promoted within their ranks. He’d soon made friends with the Alpha’s son, Rafe, and the rest is history. With Rafe Maccon’s ascent to Alpha many of the old ways were cast aside. Good riddance!

  Including one edict that had declared all magic and magical practitioners as enemy of the Pack. In other words, the old Alpha had deemed all magic evil, and in his zeal, forbade Wolves to mix with Witches. That sort of anti-magic sentiment had reigned supreme amongst Wolves for some time. But not anymore.

  In fact, Rafe i
nsisted on breaching the gap between Witches and Pack. He’d breathed new life into the Pack and made Seff proud to serve him as Beta. He was honored to stand beside Rafe and the rest of his Wolf Guard and to provide whatever was needed for the Macconwood.

  But what about what I need? He tried to stifle that nagging thought with a grunt as he pushed the tire iron to loosen the bolts that held the flat secure to the rim. The rain made it difficult to see what he was doing. It was coming down even harder now. There was something almost unnatural about the whole thing. He was sure the skies were supposed to be clear tonight. Oh well. Stupid weather channel was always wrong.

  But seriously, the wind seemed determined to get every blasted drop in his eyes! He squinted to try and minimize the effect, but the effort was wasted. Thunder cracked overhead and Seff strained to hear beyond it to the inside of the car where Charley waited.

  Once again, a loud roar of thunder echoed in the skies followed by the strong smell of ozone. It infiltrated his nostrils and tickled his senses, but he ignored it. A trick of the storm. They were on Pack land, after all. They were safe.

  He shook the rain from his hair and resumed his task. The noise of the storm grew to deafening heights, and he worked faster to change the bloody tire. Ignoring the little voice of warning in his head, Seff focused. He didn’t hear anyone approach until it was too late.

  He turned as the sound of someone coming breached his senses, but he was too late. Even as disbelief rang through him he felt the pain begin. Someone would have to be mad to attack him here.

  Next thing he knew, he was lying on the cold asphalt. Pain, a burning, scorching pain, ripped through his entire body.

  He could not move as the hooded figure bent down and forced a foul-tasting liquid into his throat. He wanted to growl and fight, but his body would not obey him. He groaned with the effort.

  Fire raced through his veins, black and unnatural, it burned down to his soul. His Wolf howled grievously in his mind’s eye. He struggled to reach his Wolf, but his beast was gone. The pain of the forced separation threatened to render him unconscious.

  No! NOOO! Through the torture, he had one thought only. Sherry. He needed to reach her somehow, to tell her he was sorry. He’d waited too fucking long. And now his time was up. No! No! Sherry! Sherry! SHERRRYYYY!

  Inside his mind, he screamed the words his lips could not say. He roared her name over and over again as the veil between him and his Wolf closed. It was there, trapped inside his mind’s eye, shrouded in the cold darkness that he saw her. His Sherry.

  He howled his rage and frustration as he watched her with his head thrown back and her purple eyes glowing. He roared until his voice stopped working. And it was then that he heard her scream his name. Seff!

  Then, the darkness took him.

  CHAPTER 2

  SHERRY! SHERRYYYY!

  A voice from her past screamed loudly inside her head, shattering her inner calm and startling Sherry from her repose. Could it be? She gasped as she heard him call her name loud and clear. Sherry!

  She’d been attempting to reach a new level of self-transcendence. In her deeply meditative state, Sherry had even managed to levitate more than a few feet off the ground when she’d heard him calling her name. Seff?

  The pain of her bottom as it slammed down onto the hardwood floor was unpleasant, but not so much as the torment she felt coming from him. Surely, something was very wrong.

  Sherry!

  “Seff?” She spoke aloud, though she knew the voice was in her head alone.

  It’s so dark. Sherry, I can’t see or hear anything. I need to tell you...

  “Oh no,” she gasped and tossed her head back, drawing on the connection forged between herself and the only man she had ever loved.

  Her heart squeezed as she opened herself up to that connection. The same one that had broken her heart so desperately before. But she had no choice. He was in trouble.

  Sherry envisioned the silver threads of magic that connected them, that would lead her to him. She was mildly surprised to see that they still pulsed with life and feeling even after so many years.

  Her perusal halted when she beheld a malevolent darkness as she neared the end of the path that lead to Seff. Within the darkness, Sherry felt its cold and evil intentions engulfing the otherwise bright aura of Seff’s being. She advanced but was unable to get much closer.

  The menacing, inky blackness surrounded him. It threatened to extinguish the beautiful light that was all him. A purely evil spell, she acknowledged the Dark magic with a toss of her own light and prayed it would be enough to hold it at bay.

  Regardless of the past, as a Witch, a Keeper of the Light, and a descendant of the Morganna, she would not allow this attack on her ally. The Macconwood Pack had officially acquired her aid months ago in the form of a contract that bound them as allies.

  You may lie to everyone, but not to yourself, Sherry. You are bound to the Wolf. Admit it. She opened her eyes and yelled into the empty room.

  “Seff! I’m coming for you!”

  She jumped to her feet, the tiny silver bells that lined the bottom of her harem pants jingled as she crossed barefoot over the wood floor. She picked up the phone and dialed quickly. When it continued to ring she clicked off and started packing.

  “Why do people even have cell phones when they don’t answer?” She slammed the thing down and walked to her bedroom. She would need enough personal items and magical stores for about a week or so until she learned more.

  She grabbed a canvas bag decorated with a bright green elephant on the front and began tossing in an incredible array of items. Way more than should have been able to fit in the bag, but that was magic for you. The inside of the canvas was as large or small as she needed.

  After tossing in some clothes and shoes, her cell phone and charger, laptop, and a variety of dried herbs, candles, potion bottles, her favorite chardonnay, her cast iron tea kettle, bunny slippers, and of course, her grandmother’s grimoire, she snapped it closed. She didn’t normally transport herself through time and space, but without the benefit of a more traditional means of transportation, meaning her car was currently in the shop, she had little choice. This was an emergency.

  Are you sure you should go? Will he welcome your help? She dismissed the stray thought almost as soon as it entered her mind. This was Seff. He was in danger. She felt his pain, heard him cry out her name. Whatever happened between them, it was in the past. He needed her now. Of course, she would go.

  Besides, she had a treaty with the Macconwood now. Their new alpha was not opposed to magical help. Much like a certain young teenage Werewolf she knew. Grazi Kelly was closer than ever to breaking the curse and Sherry was proud to have aided the young woman on her quest.

  In helping the young she-Wolf, Sherry had opened herself up to helping other supernatural factions. She dealt with Werewolves, Vampires, Dhampirs, and of course Witches, on a revolving basis.

  Rafe Maccon and his new magic is cool policy resulted in her being called in to work with his Pack on more than one occasion. Her fees differed among the groups from money to hard to come by magic ingredients and other boons. Above all things, magic demanded balance and, therefore, she was required to accept payment in return for use of her many talents.

  Sherry got results and she was in high demand. Which is why the leader of the largest Pack in the world had his legal team draw up a written retainer whereby she was acknowledged for her considerable skills as a magical consultant on call to the Macconwood Pack.

  They were now her top client, after the Covens of course. In a sidebar, she had informed Rafe that she would prefer to have little to no dealings with a certain Pack Beta. The same one she was now rushing to help. The irony was not lost on her, but she was too wound up to pay it any mind.

  She recalled how Rafe had proven willing to negotiate, but Seff had not agreed. In fact, he scoffed at her request. He was the Beta and matters of diplomacy were his domain.

  Meaning, s
he would have to deal with him regularly. However, Sherry was nothing if not tenacious. She’d been firm in her request. She even lessened her standard fee by ten percent. Magic did have its price after all, and Rafe agreed. Much to Seff’s chagrin. Idiot. He should have fought harder. But he never had. Not where she was concerned.

  It didn’t matter now. Old disappointments aside, Seff was hurt, possibly dying judging from the hollow ache of his pain that still throbbed inside of her own chest.

  Her heart shuddered at the dreadful thought. Seff had no time for doubts or personal insecurities. Sherry would simply have to swallow her pride. She bit her lip and lit the rare red flame candle that she kept hidden in the magically enhanced safe under her bed and invoked a spell to keep her home safe from intruders.

  Then she stood in the center of the room and spoke in a soft voice, “Ewch â mi ato.” Roughly translated it meant something like take me to him.

  Her native language being a mix of Celtic and Welsh, Sherry was able to bend and use magic with commands that other practitioners could simply not grasp. A supremely powerful Witch, she chose to keep most of her talents hidden. It was safer that way.

  Modern Witches new little of the ancient arts and the world was a better place for it. Greed and treachery were abundant, and it was her duty as the Morrigan to keep their secrets safe. A Witch with too much power and too little control could too easily forget their number one rule, to keep their magic hidden from the normals. It sort of fell under the whole, do no harm thing.

  The fragile beings could not comprehend the forces that gave birth to the universe and made it work. Heck, most supernaturals did not understand either, but Sherry did. More than most.

  Her level of skill was not easy for many to conceive. Especially since magic was thought to be finite. In a way, the Covens were correct. There was only so much magic allotted to this universe at any given time; however, the ability to tap into that power differed amongst them.