Which Witch is Wild? (The Witches of Port Townsend Book 3)

by Kerrigan Byrne

  The book covered with dried human skin wiggled and then flipped open, an unseen hand whisking through the pages until it came to a dead stop.

  Aerin grinned at them all. “Like most people I deal with, I’ve created a mutually beneficial relationship, so he gives me what I want.”

  Moira lifted a perfectly arched brow. “Grim, show me the spell on how to make cheese from a plain ol’ glass of milk.”

  The book fluttered again, and sure enough, there was actually a spell for cheese.

  “What?” Moira said looking at all of them. “When the moon turns as red as a bull’s pecker, a girl needs her comfort foods.” She shifted in her seat. “My point is, Grim don’t have an ass to kiss anyhow. You just have to ask nice.”

  Claire eyed the wise tome, wanting to ask about spells that would seal off her thoughts from Dru, but she’d have to wait until she was alone with the book. “Okay, then. Grim, show us the spell we’ll need to protect our house against our enemies in the darkest of times.”

  Pages flipped one way and then the other, as an electric shock passed through Claire’s body. Finally, the book stopped and rotated until Claire could read the text. “I’ll be damned.”

  Aerin leaned closer as Tierra and Moira jumped from their chairs so they could hover over Claire’s shoulder and read the spell.

  “Frog’s breath?” Tierra muttered. “How the hell will we get that?”

  “Well, for starters, you’ll need some ice cubes, a tennis racket, and Elvis’s first—” Moira stopped mid-sentence when she saw all three of her sisters staring at her open-mouthed. “Y’all never mind about the frog’s breath. I’ll take care of it. What else?”

  “The rest of the ingredients seem pretty easy, except…” Claire paused.

  “Except it will require all of us to participate.” Aerin turned her blue-eyed gaze toward each of them. “I refuse to be afraid.”

  Claire inhaled a deep breath and focused on her intuition, looking for any kind of sign that might steer her in a less dangerous direction. Nothing surfaced. “I’m in.”

  Tierra chewed on her bottom lip. “I’m not so sure.”

  “Do you want to leave it unprotected?” Aerin stared at Tierra’s belly with a purposeful look before she met Tierra’s gaze again.

  “Okay. I’m in,” Tierra said in a rush.

  “Well, fish spunk. I ain’t never backed out on a dare. Why start now?”

  Where Moira managed to come up with frog’s breath, Claire would never know. To be honest, staring at the small, clear bottle, Claire wasn’t sure there was actually anything inside.

  “You sure about that?” Claire asked as Moira pulled the stopper and dumped what invisible thing she had into the boiling cauldron.

  Moira snorted. “Don’t ever doubt a water witch. Just ask Nick I’ll screw anything that moves Kingswood.”

  The four sisters snickered as Tierra stirred the contents.

  “That’s everything then.” Tierra scraped the edges of the pot before she tapped the wooden spoon on the side and then set it down. She lifted hesitant eyes and focused in turn on each of them. “Are you sure about this?”

  “We’re sure.” Aerin opened the Grimoire she’d been cradling in her arms, skipping right past the moment for any of them to voice second thoughts. “Can everyone see the words?”

  They all nodded.

  “On the count of three, then.” Aerin exhaled a deep breath. Claire grabbed Tierra’s and Moira’s hands as she took one last look around the room crammed with herbs and flowers thriving in gorgeous pottery. If they were about to blow the Earth to smithereens, she needed a hand to hold and a memory to cherish in her final seconds. Both sisters squeezed back.

  Aerin counted down, and they all began.

  “By the power of four, we call upon the elements

  to provide us the protection of thee.

  Open the land, raise the seas, or burn the winds, whatever needs be,

  By earth, air, fire, and sea…”

  Chapter Seven

  Claire stared into each of her sisters’ eyes…silver, emerald green, and aquamarine as the ground rumbled angrily beneath them. Aerin, eyes wide, dropped Grim on the table and grasped Tierra’s and Moira’s hands, completing the circle. Synchronized buzzing hummed through Claire’s veins, churning her fears.

  A strange violet mist rose from the cauldron, swirling around them before disappearing through the screen door. Then, nothing.

  None of them moved as they waited for the final blow of fate’s hand that would snuff out all life. Seconds passed, slowly easing upon a minute. Then another.

  “Welp, guess we didn’t end the world.” Moira gazed around the room, confident in her assessment.

  “Did the spell work?” Tierra asked.

  Aerin shrugged. “I guess we won’t know until someone tries to get in. Claire, maybe you should ask Tommy to leave and then have him try to return.”

  “Funny,” Claire replied and narrowed her eyes.

  “She was serious, Claire.” Moira nodded, her gaze kind but firm. “The Tomster needs to go. He smells worse than week-old fish guts. In the sun.”

  “I already told her the same.” Tierra fired a warning gaze at Claire. “She has two days.”

  The pressure snapped the thin line holding Claire together. “Stop harping on me. I’ll take care of it, okay?” Though how, she didn’t know. She couldn’t send Tommy out in the streets alone. That would be cruel. Maybe she and Tommy could get an apartment or a little house somewhere close by so she could visit her sisters whenever she wanted or whenever she needed to escape Tommy’s smell. Which would be daily…if not hourly. Goddess help her.

  “Ladies.” The baritone caused them all to jump. Claire whipped around, knocking one of Tierra’s gorgeous mugs with her elbow. She winced when it shattered on the floor.

  Tommy stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the porch where they brewed. Thankfully, he wore clothes this time. “What is it, Tommy?” Claire refused to meet Tierra’s gaze.

  “I need to talk to you, Claire.”

  Her sisters broke apart, chattering and relieved.

  “Seems like a good time,” Tierra said as she passed.

  “Do it,” Moira whispered.

  Aerin choked on the vile air but managed a word. “Now.”

  Claire waited until her sisters disappeared to face Tommy…except they hadn’t exactly left them alone. She sensed their presence nearby. Probably hiding in the kitchen so they could listen. She opened the screen, watched them scatter away, and then closed the thick wooden door between them.

  “Do you want to sit out here or maybe go for a stroll in the garden?” Claire eyed the bushes and trees cast in menacing shadows. She hoped their spell had worked because she’d left her room without bringing her favorite dagger with her.

  “Doesn’t matter much.” He glanced about the enclosed porch with his brows furrowed. “This is okay.”

  She waited for him to sit on a wicker chair covered with a floral cushion before she chose the one farthest away from him. Thankfully, a lovely breeze blew in off the Sound.

  “Nice robe.” He eyed her chest, and she realized her sash had come loose, revealing the crimson lace bra she wore beneath. “Matches the moon.”

  “Thanks.” She yanked on the ties, securing them in place. “What did you want to talk about?”

  Dark lashes framed dull blue eyes that she’d once drowned in. “Your sisters.”

  His answer surprised her. “My…sisters?” She wasn’t sure what she expected him to say…maybe another sexual proposition…but not anything about her sisters.

  “They’re getting on my nerves. Aerin walking around like she owns the world. Moira won’t even look at me, and I’m damn sick and tired of that disgusting air freshener Tierra constantly sprays. I get that you’re all probably embarrassed because you smell, but that lilac stinky shit doesn’t come close to covering it.”

  She opened her mouth but no words formed.


  “You guys are casting spells, shaking the shit out of the earth,” he continued. “It’s making things tough for everyone, and I can’t sit around and watch it anymore.”

  “You can’t sit around…?” She blinked a couple of times, trying to formulate a response.

  “Oh, God.” He dragged gray-tinged fingers through his long, dull hair. “It’s not even that, Claire. I could tolerate those things if I knew you really loved me.”

  “Tommy—”

  He silenced her with a raised hand. “I know a part of you loves me, Claire. I sense it in that loud beating heart of yours. But I need physical love, too.” He pinned her with a serious gaze. “I’ve found someone new.”

  It took her a moment to process what he’d said. “You…”

  Irrational emotions flooded her brain, and she swam like crazy to steer clear of the pain. “You’re cheating on me?” It shouldn’t have hurt because they hadn’t had a real relationship for years, but it did.

  He stood and glared down at her. “Are you going to deny sleeping with Dru? I’ve watched the way you two are together. Don’t lie to me.”

  “I haven’t cheated.” Not exactly, anyway. Though she’d thought about it many times.

  And there had been that one time in his basement and the other on her roof, but she and Dru had never really touched each other.

  “I might be dead, but I’m not an idiot. I see the shit that’s going down. It’s only a matter of time before you cave, and I’m tired of him wielding his sword like he’s the mightiest fucking soldier who ever lived.”

  Uh…Dru was the fiercest warrior on the planet, but now might not be the best time to mention that.

  “One of these times, he’s going to get really pissed and chop off my fucking head. Then where will I be, huh? Deader than dead? I don’t need that constant worry.”

  “So, you’ve found someone new?” She should stop being so selfish and be grateful. Tommy deserved someone who could really love him.

  He nodded, a bittersweet expression on his face. “Gertie. She’s a spirit of sorts who was recently chased out of a certain castle by some older Middle-Eastern dude. We’re going to find a place on the edge of town where no one will bother us.”

  “A spirit? How will you…” She wanted to say fuck, but that seemed rather indelicate at the moment. “How will you be together?”

  He glared at her for a long moment. “She’s a succubus, okay? Doesn’t matter. Our sex life is none of your business. I came to say goodbye, not listen to you judge and preach to me.”

  She tucked in her bottom lip and stood. With only shallow breaths, she moved forward until they were face-to-face. “I’m sorry this didn’t work out for us, Tommy. It hurts me more than you know. I don’t know how many days we have left on earth, but if Gertie makes you happy, then I can be glad for that.”

  He nodded, his expression solemn. “Thank you.”

  “Can I have a hug?” She opened her arms, and he stepped into them, crushing her against him. For that moment, it didn’t matter that he had the warmth of the arctic tundra or smelled like rotting vegetation under the hot sun. She loved this man, deeply, and he would always own a sacred space in her heart.

  He pulled back, and she swiped at the tears hovering beneath her eyes, embarrassed at her show of emotion. “I’m sorry, Claire. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

  She shook her head, the large knot in her throat choking her words. “It’s okay. Just go, and be happy, Tommy.”

  He paused for a long moment, and she wondered if he changed his mind. Then he turned from her, strode down the back porch steps and faded into the red-tinged darkness of night.

  A sob erupted from the deepest part of her soul, and she clamped a hand over her mouth. Scalding tears burned her cheeks as she once-again mourned the loss of her first love.

  This was for the best. For both of them. But, she had to wonder if she’d ever see Tommy again. He deserved someone who loved him, someone who lit up when he walked through the door. Someone who didn’t look at him as a burden she would carry for the rest of her days.

  She should be happy. They were both free.

  Another sob wracked her body, and she doubled over and hugged her knees.

  The moist air around her sparked with electricity, and she looked up, afraid she’d find another assassin.

  Dark and dangerous, Dru stood above her, his gaze stark with concern. “Come here,” he commanded. “He’s not worth your worry.”

  She stood, her legs shaky, and then she rushed into his embrace as another sob escaped.

  “It’s okay.” He stroked her hair as she bled painful emotion. The physical wounds she received earlier were nothing compared to this. It was a ripping, a rending of the heart, and she collapsed against him, unable to bear the weight of it.

  He leaned away and tilted her chin upward. She sniffed, trying to regain control over her tears. This man wouldn’t understand any of her feelings. He’d never known abandonment and heartbreak like she had.

  “You’re wrong, Claire. I do feel it. Your heart has become my heart.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing he could understand, wishing that he couldn’t read her so easily. “I feel so guilty because there’s part of me that’s glad he’s gone. But I will miss him desperately.”

  “I wish I meant that much to you.” A strange, overpowering essence that she recognized as Dru tugged at her heart.

  “Oh, Dru.” With shaking hands, she cupped his face, reveling in the rasp of whiskers against her fingertips, admiring the strength of his jaw and the softness of his lips. “I don’t know if I’m capable of giving away my heart again, but I’d really like to give you this.”

  She tugged his head down, her fingers gliding across the stiff ends of his short hair, and she kissed him. Tentative at first, and then lingering a little longer.

  He returned her kisses, but otherwise remained motionless while she explored his mouth and the sensuous way his tongue tangled with hers. She slid her fingers along the corded muscles covering his broad shoulders, soaking in the feel of him.

  The man was larger than life in so many ways. He should have been too much for her, but he wasn’t. His warrior soul clicked with hers in a way she hadn’t known could exist, and he terrified the hell out of her.

  “I should go inside,” she said as she stepped away.

  He planted firm hands on her hips, reclaiming her. “Why?”

  She fought to keep her mind blank, recognizing how vulnerable she was to him at that moment. “It’s been a really long day. Fighting those assholes and wrecking my bike.” She sniffed and blinked furiously. “And then Tommy. I think what I need most is sleep.”

  “You could come back to my room and sleep with me,” he suggested. Her body responded to his words, and she had to battle the urge to give in. This man would love her like she’d never been loved before.

  “Don’t be afraid, Claire. A valiant warrior faces her fears and forges ahead. You never know what may be waiting for you on the other side.”

  Her breaths came faster, bordering on hyperventilation as her insides melted to liquid fire. She wanted to lose herself in him so badly. But she was afraid she’d be lost forever then.

  She took another step backward. “Goodnight, Dru. Thank you for coming to check on me.”

  His expression flattened to the hardness he’d worn when she’d first seen him at the airport. “I’ll always be here for you, Claire.” He fisted his hand and placed it over his heart.

  Oh, Goddess.

  She turned and fled from the man who’d turned her world upside down.

  Chapter Eight

  When Claire walked in, Moira sat at the kitchen table reading a tabloid, her long legs stretched out and resting on a nearby chair.

  Moira looked up, her lovely eyes filled with concern. “Everything go okay with the Tomster?”

  She nodded, but didn’t trust her voice to speak. She collected a bottle of their strongest whisky and a shot glass etch
ed with a skull and crossbones before she dropped into the chair next to Moira. Claire poured amber liquid almost to the brim and then slammed that puppy home.

  Molten alcohol burned a fiery path all the way to her stomach. She inhaled as the strength of it soothed her and shifted a sideways glance at Moira who still studied her with knowing eyes.

  “Did you tell him he has to move out?” she prodded.

  Claire half-laughed, half-cried. “He actually broke up with me.”

  “What?” Moira dropped her feet to the floor and leaned forward. “You gotta be kidding.”

  “Nope.” Claire poured herself another glass. “Said he had enough of you guys not treating him right and that we all smelled.”

  Moira busted out in a laugh. “If that ain’t funnier than a three-legged mule tryin’ to tango. We don’t stink.”

  Claire snorted. “I guess things have changed for him.”

  “Well…there’s truth to that. And not necessarily in a good way.”

  “Depends on who’s talking. What one finds disgusting, another finds attractive.” She tipped back the whisky she’d poured and then met Moira’s gaze. “He left me for another woman. A succubus, no less.”

  “Yeah, that’d chap my ass right and proper. If that succubus is half as good at possessing people as she-Satan, he’ll be having all kinds of kinky sex with every woman in town.”

  The thought of Tommy with all those women, even if they were taken over by the same spirit, turned her stomach. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Moira’s expression softened. “Don’t you worry. Let him pass that dead, diseased dong of his to a few desperate hussies. The time has come to pay the pig farmer.”

  “Piper?”

  “What?” Moira lifted questioning brows.

  “Never mind.” Claire eyed Grim who rested near Moira’s elbow. “Okay if I take Grim for a while? I wanted to study a little more.”

  “Knock yourself out.” Moira pushed the tome toward her, and Claire cradled it against her chest. Something akin to family ties wrapped unseen tendrils around her.