by Lynn Stark
Malcolm groaned and shook his head. “They have a similar competition here. Fortunately, it doesn’t come down to a matter of life and death.”
There had been times in their shared pasts that slights, insults, and a mere trespass by an outsider would have meant their death. Fortunately, Cain and Malcolm, as leaders of their covens, were less inclined to kill someone for something foolish. Only severe infractions, such as an attack or killing, would result in death for the perpetrator of the act.
“That’s definitely a good thing. Thank you for the pleasant welcome. Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me. I believe I will retire for the night.” He set aside the heavy tumbler and stood. “I’m looking forward to this walk, if you will point me in the right direction?” He could have used his powers and located Chester’s energy and followed that, but he decided to go with the more common way of getting directions.
They walked out on the porch together. It didn’t surprise Cain to see a dozen or more children of varying ages playing in the yard and along the lane. The darkness was almost complete. There was barely a tinge of light coming over the mountain. He listened for the night creatures. Crickets and birds could be heard. The soft yellow glow of fireflies blinked above the tall grass in the field across the way.
“Nice, is it not?” Malcolm asked in a soft voice, as if he didn’t want to disturb the natural sounds.
“Very nice.”
“You should give up the city and move here with your coven. The world out there is shrinking for our kind. We do well enough, but are we happy living like that?”
It was a question Cain would ask himself many times over the coming days. For now, however, he intended upon thinking about nothing more than how pleasant his walk to his temporary home was proving to be.
He was about to step off onto the path when flashing red and white lights could be seen coming through the trees several hundred feet away, destroying the gentle dusk and shattering the sweet sounds in the air. There was a large field between the alpha’s house and them. The lane came in from the road through that portion of the forest, too.
“What the hell?” Ian growled as he walked down off the porch and into the lane. Malcolm joined him.
When a siren began to blare as a large vehicle left the shelter of the trees, children and adults left their houses to join them. They all stared in puzzlement. It was obviously an emergency vehicle. It looked like a fire truck to Cain.
“What the hell?” Ian asked again. He looked around. “Did someone call the fire department? Where’s the fire?”
The large vehicle finally came to a stop. The siren was thankfully shut off, but the light bars remained blinking in an annoying manner. There was a collective groan when the troll named Fred climbed out of the driver’s side of the truck and jumped down.
“Fred, why the hell are you driving a fire truck?”
The troll almost swaggered. He definitely appeared pleased with himself. “I bought it.”
“Why?” Ian was obviously trying to control his temper.
It was a good thing to do with a troll. While Fred, his mate Misty, and their children were definitely out of the ordinary for trolls, they still had to be treated with kid gloves. Trolls’ tempers were legendary. They definitely didn’t always play well with others.
“Because it’s something we need around here. We’re getting more houses all the time, not to mention barns and workshops. We have a school and a clinic that need to be protected. We can’t pump all the water from the river or the lake. It’s just too difficult.”
The troll needed to be a politician, Cain thought with amusement. He also had a great deal of common sense, and Cain guessed that Ian would kick himself for not getting fire suppression equipment himself.
It didn’t surprise Cain in the least when Ian agreed with Fred. Some men, and women, would have turned into jerks, angry about being shown up on something as important as the safety of the residents on the farm.
“You’re absolutely correct, Fred. This is an excellent idea. Do you have any suggestions as to who should head our newly established fire brigade?”
“I always wanted to be a fireman,” Malcolm told them, obviously teasing. “Maybe I should be the fire chief.”
“Wrong, you crazy vampire. My truck. I’m the boss. Besides, I have the hat.” A red fireman’s helmet appeared in the troll’s hand. The magic surprised Cain, as he’d never seen a troll use it before. Fred plopped it on his large head. Despite the fact that it didn’t come close to fitting him, he wore it with smug pride. “Yep, I’m the boss. I’ll be screening volunteers beginning tomorrow.”
Cain chuckled and left the group to find his way to his residence for the night. Because of the distraction, he hadn’t been told how to find the house where he would be staying. He followed Chester’s energy signature as he strolled leisurely along the crushed granite path. There were small lights placed intermittently along it. It certainly didn’t escape his notice that he could also feel the energy from his mates, and it became stronger the longer he walked toward where he would be staying while on the farm.
Taking off his jacket, Cain draped it over his shoulder. Then he loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt. It was the most relaxed he’d felt in quite a while, but he only had himself to blame. There were few times when he purposely did something that others would consider fun. His own mother described him as a stick-in-the-mud, usually while she was enjoying a fruity drink on a beach somewhere.
When he was about halfway to his destination, Cain heard voices. Because his vision in the dark was excellent he was able to see three figures. One was a large shifter leaning against a tree, watching with amusement as a small male, with rope in his hands, pulled hard on the largest of the three strangers. The bushes it was behind couldn’t hide the fact that it was a werewolf, crouched down, all four limbs braced with its claws in the ground.
Not that there was a chance in hell that the fairy could pull the werewolf even an inch. But the little guy sure was trying. He was off the ground now, his dainty feet several feet above it, as his wings fluttered furiously. The shifter leaning against the tree laughed, obviously highly amused by the spectacle.
“Come on, you. I caught you, so you’re mine,” the fairy told the werewolf, frustrated. “You have to do what I say.”
The werewolf growled. Then he snarled, displaying a horrifying set of long, sharp teeth, twice the length of an ordinary wolf shifter. This beast, however, was more man than a four-legged creature. When he began backing up, it looked like he was flying a fairy kite as the fairy flew to and fro on the end of the rope.
The sight was so amusing that Cain couldn’t prevent himself from laughing. The battling fairy and werewolf ignored him, but the shifter straightened and frowned, obviously not liking the fact that he’d been caught unaware. Cain, however, felt no threat or hostility. Walking so he was closer, he asked the shifter, “What’s happening here?”
“Pebin believes that if he takes Chance back to his realm, that the werewolf will protect him from bullies, who are none other than his brothers.”
“I’m going to eat him and his brothers, if he doesn’t stop this foolishness.” The werewolf’s voice was deep, gravelly, and sent a shiver down Cain’s spine.
“You can’t eat him, Chance, he’s your mate. You’d miss him.”
“Not after this bullshit. Enough!” The werewolf’s body changed. He rose up on his hind legs, taking on more of a human form, as hair receded slightly, as did his teeth and ears. “I’ve decided I will spank you.”
The rope was dropped. Pebin crossed his arms across his narrow chest, and his lower lip poked out in a pout as he hovered about a foot above the ground. The small male was adorable. Cain could think a lot of things to do to and with him. The lumberjack-looking guy was ruggedly handsome, and he had muscles popping out everywhere. Yeah, Cain wouldn’t mind doing him, too. Then there was Chance the werewolf, now fully in human form, standing there as naked and
as gorgeous as a Greek god. He pulled the rope from around his neck and tossed it away, glaring at Pebin as he did so.
“Chance, go easy on him. The guy’s too adorable to stay mad at for long. Personally, I thought it was a pretty good idea, although I would have drugged you first.”
“Dammit, Larson, why didn’t you suggest that? I’ve worked up a sweat and I stink,” Pebin said, lifting his arm and sniffing.
Chance began to walk in Cain’s direction. “I’ll see you guys at home. And for god’s sake, stop giving him ideas. He’s enough of a pain in the ass as it is.”
As Chance walked by him, Cain and he shared a startled glance.
“Oh, fuck no!” they exclaimed in unison.
Chapter Two
The changes Chance’s life had taken during the past few years had been significant. One moment he’d been a human living a homeless existence. The next moment some crazy-ass witch had found him where he’d been tucked in what was left of a cardboard box, changed him into an actual seven-foot-tall werewolf with fangs and gnarly claws, and then forced him to participate in an attack on the people living on the farm. It had been horrific. He had been unable to resist her, and his heart had broken when he had caused the deaths of several people.
Once the battle was over, Chance had been captured. At the time he would have preferred to have been killed. He didn’t want to be a werewolf. He also felt as if he needed to pay for his part in the attack and the many deaths. Guilt rode him hard for the longest time. It wasn’t eased by the help he was given by the survivors. While he’d been held in a secure cell for months, he had eventually been released. Before that had happened, however, Chance had been taught how to change back to human and how to control the shifting.
Life had been fairly normal since then. Well, as normal as it could be for him. He had a place to live, plenty of food, and he was slowly making friends. What he hadn’t expected was to find mates. Having them was not something he wanted. It was difficult enough to keep his shit together. He didn’t want to have to worry about the needs of others.
One mate was Larson, a brown bear shifter from Minnesota. He had come to the farm as a land manager. He would help take care of the forests that surrounded it and were owned by Ian. They had met while Chance had been on patrol through those same forests. Larson had been excited about finding his mate, Chance had been less so. Hell, his excitement could have been read in the negative. While they were mates, they hadn’t made a physical consummation. Chance refused to allow Larson to claim him. It was something he expected to piss the bear shifter off, but the man seemed to take everything in stride. It took a lot to piss him off and Chance had only seen it once, when Larson had asked Chance to move in with him and Chance had initially refused. When Larson hadn’t been able to convince him, he’d sworn, shifted into his bear, and then proceeded to have a tantrum, ripping up grass with his long claws and trying to push over small trees.
After that display, Chance had decided not to be a total dick. He agreed to move in with Larson, but that was it, for now. At some point he knew they would share bites and blood, confirming their mating. Until then, he felt he had to give Larson something.
The two of them had managed to get along well enough for several months. They hadn’t had sex yet, although he was attracted to the big, muscular man. Larson rang every one of his bells. Chance was actually considering completing the mating, if only to end his perpetual horniness. Then along came Pebin. The fairy was charming, sweet, loveable, and completely annoying. He had been visiting some cousins who lived on the farm, when they had discovered they were mates. Once again, Larson was completely happy to have a second mate. Chance was the complete opposite. Larson was strong and fully capable of taking care of himself. Pebin, on the other hand, was so small and fragile, he appeared as if a hard stare would break him in half.
Nope, Chance couldn’t do it. He couldn’t claim Pebin for a mate. Being responsible for the fairy’s well-being was just too much for him. Thankfully, Pebin seemed to be on the same page. He didn’t want a werewolf and a bear shifter for mates. Fairies mated with fairies. He also didn’t want to live on the farm. It was boring. But he wouldn’t mind someone kicking his brothers’ asses and was also trying to find a way to convince Chance to do it. Yeah, the guy was adorable, and as funny as he was annoying.
That was the scene the vampire had witnessed. Yet another attempt by Pebin to get Chance to go along with his plan to take his brothers down a notch or two, while Larson, the jerk, looked on and even encouraged their little mate.
“Oh, fuck no!” Chance and the vampire both shouted it. They were obviously equally horrified.
It seemed neither of them wanted three mates. The vampire would know that if Chance was his mate, then the other two were as well. Or any mates. Chance was going home and locking himself in his bedroom, before another mate popped out of the woodwork.
“Go away,” Chance told him before stomping away toward the farm.
Larson could be heard laughing his ass off. Pebin, the twit, was cooing over the vampire. “Oooh, you’re so handsome. And you smell divine, too!”
Growling, in the worst mood he’d been in in ages, Chance all but ran through what had become a village on the farm, until he reached the small house he shared with Larson. As he went, he waved to the gargoyle brothers standing together on a front lawn, chatting away, as if it was something quite normal to be seen. There was no need to take his bad mood out on them. Besides, they were far fiercer than his werewolf. There were definitely some creatures out there that could turn Chance into a major pussy.
Naked, wishing he hadn’t ruined another set of clothes, Chance went into the bathroom and took a quick shower. As he did so, he thought about his mates. All of them. He knew who the vampire was, from previous visits. His name was Cain and he was the leader from the coven in Boston. Sometimes thinking about stuff like vampires and covens still had the ability to blow his mind, making him believe he was still drunk on cheap booze and drugs in an alley and imagining things.
Of course he didn’t want to be back there, but in a way life had been so much simpler. No one expected anything of him. Well, other than go someplace where he wouldn’t be seen. Pricking people’s consciences wasn’t necessarily a good thing. Some wanted to help. Others would rather throw them all in a pit somewhere, hiding society’s problems.
Once showered and dressed, Chance decided to make a sandwich with a large dill pickle on the side. He grabbed a bottle of beer from the refrigerator and headed back into the living room to watch some TV. Hopefully he could forget that another mate had just shown up. Fuck, would it never end? Wasn’t there like a limit on mates or something? The fact that he knew of there being groups of six or more didn’t give him any confidence that a couple more mates wouldn’t show up.
Chance shuddered with a deep sense of trepidation. There was no way he could take care of so many. It was impossible. If he wasn’t living with Larson, at Larson’s insistence, he would still be skulking around the forest and sleeping curled up in the hollow beneath a tree in his werewolf form. It seemed Larson was trying to tame him. Good luck with that, he thought ruefully. Chance had been taking care of himself for a long time. His parents had kicked him out at fourteen, when he had told them he was gay. Nice. Two people he should have been able to count on had tossed him out like garbage, giving no thought to the fact that he wasn’t old enough to have a legitimate job that paid enough to live on. Chance had struggled to make it work for him, but soon found himself overwhelmed by the harsh realities of life.
When the door opened and Larson came in, Chance put the memories of his past behind him. The man was incredibly sexy. Big, muscled, and handsome, Larson had a lot going for him physically. His personality wasn’t bad, either, except for the whole encouraging Pebin to be a rotten little fairy. Yeah, the guy was the total package. Chance was attracted to him. He couldn’t help himself. Then there was the mate thing. It made him want to bite the guy and suck his blood, all
while fucking him through a mattress. Chance shivered and hoped the plate on his lap partially covered his growing erection. Not that it would help all that much. Larson would be able to smell his arousal.
“You know, we could do something about that,” Larson told him in a conversational tone as he walked from the front door, behind the couch Chance was seated on, and toward the kitchen. He only paused long enough to lean over, put a finger beneath Chance’s chin, to tip his head back for a kiss.
Yeah, the bastard did shit like that.
Larson chuckled as he left Chance to savor the man’s taste and curse the throbbing dick in his pants.
When Larson returned with his own sandwich, he sat down beside Chance. “I don’t know why you’re fighting this so much. Tell me, if I was human, would that make a difference?”
“No,” he replied instantly. “I don’t want the responsibility of taking care of someone else. I’d suck at it.”
A snort was the bear shifter’s response. “You told me what you went through before you came here. I appreciate that you trusted me enough to do so. But you need to know that I don’t need anyone to take care of me. All you have to do is be my mate. We share our lives together.”
“What about the twit?”
“I heard that,” Pebin said as he crawled through the open front window. Chance had heard him moving around outside. For a guy who could fly, he didn’t do it much, instead tromping around like a bull with trash can lids on his small feet. “What are you guys talking about?”
“Love and mating,” Larson told him as Pebin walked around the end of the couch and squeezed in between them. “I’m trying to get Chance to surrender.”