Do You Really Want to Haunt Me: A Happily Everlasting World Novel (Bewitchingly Ever After Book 3)

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Do You Really Want to Haunt Me: A Happily Everlasting World Novel (Bewitchingly Ever After Book 3) Page 11

by Mandy M. Roth


  Luc’s mate was a hunter? That was news to York. He didn’t think the devil had a mate.

  “Luc says if she’s hurt here and now, he can’t help her. That she’ll be gone for good,” said York fast, the need to get everyone on the same page great. “He told us to find a contract.”

  Muffy nodded. “Yes. I know the one he’s talking about. It’s in my husband’s study. In the vault there. I can get to it, but I’ll need a distraction. My husband is currently entertaining high-ranking Collective members. They’re celebrating something, and since Morgan from the past dies tonight, I’m going to assume the party is because they think they’re getting her soul tonight. Let’s be sure that doesn’t happen. If they get her soul, the Morgan standing here with us now, can’t ever come to be.”

  Millie lifted a hand, and one finger extended as a long, dagger-like nail appeared from the end of it. “What did you have in mind?”

  Gasping, Morgan grabbed for York. “I did not see that coming.”

  York wrapped his arm tighter around his mate and kissed the top of her head. “Figured you’d be used to the strange and unusual by now. All that time spent around me.”

  She patted his chest. “This is a lot to take in.”

  Chapter Twelve

  York could more than understand why Morgan was having a hard time with it all. She was right. It was a lot to take in.

  Muffy rubbed the belly of the bat and bent, whispering something in its ear. There was a poof of black smoke, and then a tall, built man appeared wearing a tailored, dark gray suit, complete with a vest, pocket watch, and matching top hat. Long black hair hung just past the man’s shoulders.

  He looked at Morgan and winked.

  She swayed, and York held firmer to her, keeping her upright. “My bat is a hot guy.”

  Muffy smiled. “I’m sure Booker is pleased to hear you think he’s attractive. He’s always been something of a ladies’ man.”

  York stiffened. “That guy had unlimited access to my mate?”

  Booker tipped his head and removed his hat. When he smiled, he flashed fang. “I did. Seeing as how she is my great-great-great-great-niece, I think it’s safe to say there was nothing inappropriate afoot.”

  “Does he look over thirty-five to you?” asked Morgan of York. “I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around the knowledge that my pet bat is really an immortal vampire.”

  York rolled his eyes. “I don’t like him.”

  “You don’t know him,” argued Morgan.

  “Neither do you. Five minutes ago, you thought Booker was your pet,” snapped York. “Look at him. Seems awfully haughty if you ask me.”

  Morgan squared her shoulders and put her hands on her hips. “I’ll have you know that I trust him. He was a great, erm, pet.”

  Booker flashed a wide smile. One that York knew the ladies would fall for. He, himself, was great with the opposite sex. He knew what they went for. And Booker fit the bill.

  He opened his mouth to give Morgan a piece of his mind but stopped when he noticed the way she was glaring at him. There was a fierceness there, just below the surface, almost daring him to push further. In that second, his shark side did its version of tucking its tail between its legs and retreating. It didn’t like having its mate angry with him.

  Neither did York. “Um, shutting up now.”

  Morgan seemed pleased as punch at his response. “Good boy.”

  “And he called me a pet,” said Booker with a huff.

  York growled, ready and willing to take on the man. There was something about him that rubbed York the wrong way.

  “Making friends again?” asked a man with long red hair that was pulled back at the nape of his neck and a thick matching red beard as he entered the kitchen. He had on a pair of dress pants but nothing else, leaving him barefoot and shirtless. His honed form and how he carried himself alerted York that the man was more than likely a shifter.

  The newcomer touched the pants he was in, his attention on Muffy. “Took these from your husband’s wardrobe. Thought it best I not walk down naked.”

  Muffy nodded. “Thank you, Spike. But you should know, it is not a hardship seeing you without clothing.”

  That was Spike?

  York felt faint.

  He could only hope the redhead was also related to Morgan. He did not want to compete for his mate’s affection with that man.

  “Holy wow, my hedgehog is a hottie too,” said Morgan with a breathless sigh.

  “Tell me he’s her uncle, please,” said York to Muffy.

  Millie giggled. “Spike? No. He’s a demon. No relation of mine either, but our clans are on good terms. He owed me a favor or two, and when he learned Morgan was in danger, he wanted to help any way he could.”

  Spike stretched his arms above his head, showing off his form and his height.

  They were identical to York’s.

  Morgan and Muffy stared at the act as if they wanted it to be recorded for playback at a later date.

  Tugging lightly on his mate’s arm, York cleared his throat. “Morgan, try not to stare.”

  “I can’t look away,” said Morgan.

  Muffy nodded. “Difficult. I know.”

  Millie’s lip curled. “If you think the fact that his base human form is attractive, then sure. But I much rather prefer my men with two or three heads and horns.”

  Morgan stared harder at Spike. “He slept in bed with me for years. I never knew my sweet hedgehog was really so impressive.”

  “He’s not that impressive,” interjected York in a voice that more than announced his jealousy.

  Millie touched the counter lightly. “You’re close to challenging the men in the room when your focus should be on the enemy in the house. These men aren’t it.”

  “From where I’m standing, Spike is a front-runner,” said York before thinking better of it.

  “What is your deal?” demanded Morgan.

  “He’s got a taste of the green-eyed monster. Otherwise known as being jealous,” said Muffy, seeming amused. “What man would be fine knowing his significant other won the heart of a man who looks like Spike?”

  “It’s because I rubbed Spike’s belly in hedgehog form, isn’t it?” asked Morgan in a silly manner that eased some of the tension in the room. “Is Spike your real name?”

  “No,” replied the demon-shifter. “But it’s long, boring, and very Latin. So, Spike is what I’ve gone by for hundreds of years.”

  Morgan pointed between Booker and Spike. “One of you appeared fully dressed. Can you both do that when you change?”

  Booker licked his lower lip. “Just me. Spike gets dressed the old-fashioned way. He shows up in his birthday suit.”

  “Cool,” returned Morgan.

  York groaned more. “I need a Collective member to break. Fast. Before my shark side decides to come out and play.”

  Millie smiled wide. “Goodie. We have extras on hand. But first, let us distract them all, and Muffy can grab the contract. It’s best Morgan be kept safely out of the way.”

  “I agree. But I’ll handle the Collective members,” said York. “They want to harm my mate. That means they’ve got a can of whoop—”

  Morgan raised a hand, cutting him off. “We get the point.”

  Booker snorted. “Let him go on. It always amuses me how much shifter males feel the need to announce just how alpha they are. Negates the point they’re making.”

  York and Spike growled.

  It only served to make Booker laugh more.

  Millie nodded to York. “Morgan needs to be protected at all costs. Some of the Collective members could easily steal her soul without much thought or effort. Her father will sacrifice her in the blink of an eye. He won’t risk his standing in the organization or his power.”

  “What does this contract do, and why is it so important?” asked York.

  Muffy took a deep breath and lowered her gaze. Shame was evident on her face.

  Booker rubbed her back lightly
. “You cannot blame yourself. He tricked you. He tricked all of us.”

  “I should have seen through the lies,” she confessed. “I was blinded by what I thought was love. And I wanted to be normal. To know what it feels like to stand in the noonday sun. When he pushed me to sign it, the idea of ever having a child with him seemed absurd. He’s not my mate. I didn’t think it would ever happen, so I didn’t know there was a real risk. I wouldn’t have let him push me to sign it had I known Morgan would come to be.”

  Millie sighed. “Barton used his magic and borrowed from even darker powers to make sure the two of you had a child together. He needed a tribute to offer to the Collective. He was too worried about money and power.”

  “So was I,” confessed Muffy. “I wish I could do it over again.”

  “If you did, Morgan would never come to be,” said Millie in a way that said she was sure of her words. “It killed you to have to keep her at arm’s length all of her life. I know you wanted to hold her, to love her, to let her know she is loved.”

  Morgan gasped. “Muffy wanted to hold me? Are you sure?”

  Booker nodded. “She’s sure. Your mother loves you, Morgan. When she learned the lengths that your father would go to get what he wanted, she found ways to alert Luc. She couldn’t go to him outright, or the Collective would have known. She had to find creative ways around them.”

  Morgan stilled. “She made Luc my godfather, didn’t she?”

  “Yes,” said Booker. “She’d been friends with him for centuries before your father came into the picture. Luc tried to steer her clear of Barton.”

  “I was a fool,” said Muffy. “Passion clouded my mind. And in truth, I wasn’t the best person back then. Luc was always disappointed in my actions. He gave up on me after Morgan was born. I still don’t know why he agreed to be her godfather.”

  “Because he sensed something in her,” said Millie. “A connection she’d have to a family who has a destiny woven with his.”

  Was she talking about York’s family? He nearly asked but held his tongue.

  Muffy wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. “Enough tears and regret. The important thing now is getting the contract that says Morgan willingly offers her soul to the Collective as a sacrifice.”

  “It says I what?” asked Morgan.

  “You didn’t sign it,” said Muffy. “Your father did for you. He signed your name with his power. It’s a spell that can be broken so long as you’re alive.”

  Morgan put her hand up. “I’m dead. The Collective killed me on this night thirty years ago. After the concert the me of my past and your present is attending.”

  Booker and Spike both went on high alert.

  York found himself disliking them a little less, knowing how much they wanted to keep his mate safe.

  Muffy’s eyes moistened before she began to cry outright. “The you of now? She dies tonight?”

  “Yes,” said York, his hand finding his mate’s shoulder in a show of support.

  Millie looked pained. “Muffy, it has to be. If we find a way to change that, Morgan might never meet York. The ripple effects could be devastating. We have to let her die tonight so that she can return to us just like she is now.”

  Morgan ran her hands through her hair, stress evident. “You’re saying Dad magically forged my name?”

  Muffy nodded.

  “No one caught on? I mean, I was like brand new to the world when he did it. My writing ability really didn’t come about for another six years or so.” Morgan touched her stomach next, and worry radiated from her. “It can’t be like legally binding or anything, right?”

  Booker, Spike, and York shared looks that said they more than understood how underhanded the Collective could be. No human court of law could touch them, and they knew it.

  York drew Morgan to him. He gave her a gentle squeeze. “We’ll get the contract, and we’ll handle it.”

  “How? Apparently, my father is some dark wizard.” She put her palms to his chest. “That’s bad, right?”

  “It’s not great, darlin’,” answered York. “Could be worse.”

  She didn’t look as if she believed him. “How so?”

  “I’m thinking.”

  That earned him a nervous laugh and a quick hug from Morgan.

  “But they said I had to be alive to get out of the contract,” said Morgan, sounding so young that it was easy to forget that she’d had thirty years dead under her belt.

  He smoothed her hair back from her eyes. “Darlin’, you’re alive now. That’s what matters. You’re flesh. You’re blood.”

  “And you can be killed,” said Booker sternly. “That means you need to stay far from your father and his men right now.”

  “Agreed,” said Muffy. “York, take my daughter up to her room. It’s warded from evil. That is why I can’t enter it. Neither can her father or his men.”

  “You warded my room against yourself?” asked Morgan.

  Millie let out a long, slow breath. “No, child. She warded it to protect you, and that left her being blocked from entering. See, while she loves you, she did, in the end, sign something that can cause you great harm. She knew the risk of warding your room. If she’d have gotten her way, the whole house would be warded for you.”

  “True,” said Spike. “Muffy has always wanted the best for you. Your father is another story.”

  Millie nodded. “Now, either your mate can take you up to your room, or Booker and Spike can.” She stared at York. “Killing things, or alone time with your mate? You decide.”

  York grabbed his woman’s hand. “Where is your room?”

  Muffy pointed in the direction of a set of stairs, and York practically dragged Morgan with him. He hadn’t meant to. He was just that excited to both get a second alone with her and keep her safe.

  She hurried along behind him as he raced up the stairs.

  “Last door on the right,” she said.

  He went right for it, and when he opened the door, he was struck with a room that felt exactly like the Morgan he knew. It was done in all white with a huge red stop sign affixed to the wall. Posters from bands were hung as well as a movie poster from the film JAWS.

  He chuckled. “Got a thing for sharks?”

  She eased into the room and then shut and locked the door.

  He took stock of her shirt and what it said. “Oh, sharks and New York. Nice. Good to be loved.”

  He’d meant it as a joke, but the way she looked at him was off.

  “Morgan?”

  “You! It was you at the concert all those years ago. You’re the cowboy who came up to me and chased off this creepy guy.”

  He had no idea what she was talking about. “Darlin’?”

  “You end up at the concert tonight, York. Thirty years ago, you came to me there,” she insisted, standing firm. Her eyes widened. “You told me you wished that you could change it all for me, and that it would all end okay. Then you said you loved me.”

  York nearly denied having anything remotely close to love for her, but he stopped. He did love her. A lot. And there was no better time than the present to tell her as much. He took her hands in his and lowered his head. “Morgan, are you okay with that? With me loving you?”

  Her lips pursed, and he knew she was thinking about what he’d asked. That didn’t stop him from doing what felt right. He kissed her, half expecting her to realize he wasn’t good enough for her and to push him away.

  When she bit at his lower lip and went for his shirt, York couldn’t hide his elation. But now wasn’t the time for it all.

  He caught her wrists. “Morgan, I want you, darlin’. More than anything in the world, but we need to get the contract and you out of here. I want you safe.”

  Nodding, she kept tugging at his shirt and went to her tiptoes. “And everything in me is shouting about how you need to make this official to make sure that happens.”

  “The second we’re back to our time, I’m gonna make you mine,” he promised. He
kissed her temple. “Stay here. I’m going to help the others. Don’t leave this room.”

  York’s hand found the bedroom door handle, and his power flared. It sent a jolt through him, carrying with it the knowledge that if he didn’t claim her now, she wouldn’t be returning with him when the time came. That she’d be forever lost to him.

  That was unacceptable.

  He glanced at her bed, which had black bedding. His little punk rocker was a firecracker. And she was his. The time had come to make sure of that.

  He bent and scooped her off her feet, rushing her toward the bed.

  “York?” she squeaked. “I thought you said we were waiting until we’re back home.”

  “Changed my mind,” he said with a waggle of his brows.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Morgan watched as York paced the room. She was still in a state of shock over what had happened between them. It had been wonderful. York had surprised her with how sweet and tender he could be.

  Her time in Hedgewitch Cove had taught her a number of things about supernaturals. Namely, how mating did and did not work. And she was most certainly mated to York now.

  Husband and wife.

  That would take some getting used to, but she knew they’d figure it all out. After all, they loved one another and had for some time. Didn’t hurt that Fate had their back, making them mates and all.

  The day had been nothing short of a whirlwind, but she wouldn’t change anything. Okay, she’d maybe not have the Collective after her again, but other than that, no. She’d gotten to see Millie again, learn that her pets were more than fine, and find out that her mother wasn’t evil after all.

  Just seriously misguided.

  “Please sit down, you’re giving me a headache,” said Morgan, touching her stomach gently. “I’m already hungry. Let’s not add aching head to the mix too. I’m not used to having a real body.”

 

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