Alpha's Fate: A BBW Wolf-Shifter Paranormal Mystery & Romance (Arcane Affairs Agency)

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Alpha's Fate: A BBW Wolf-Shifter Paranormal Mystery & Romance (Arcane Affairs Agency) Page 5

by Nora Ash


  That demon was going to regret choosing Thompson’s Mill as its hunting grounds.

  “Is that it?” Jackson’s disbelieving tone cut through my sense of elation like a bread knife through Sunday rolls. “You just put on a pot of soup and call it a day?”

  I shot him a glare. “The brew has to cook in until it’s a thick syrup. Then I’ll mix the ground-up crystal into it and leave it to soak until all the liquid has been absorbed.”

  “And then I’ll have my demon-vanquishing weapon back?” he asked, doubt plain in his voice.

  I narrowed my eyes as heat rose to my cheeks. “And then you’ll have a demon-vanquishing powder.”

  “Powder? I’m going to get rid of a murderous demon with powder?”

  I opened my mouth to tell him that if he was unhappy with my services, he could find another witch to pester, but before I could my phone went off.

  I jumped, startled, and grasped it off the opposing kitchen counter to flick the alarm off.

  “What was that for?” Jackson eyes the bubbling pot on the stove. “Crystal-time?”

  “No, that was the reminder that you need to leave,” I said. “I need to get ready for a date, so if you could kindly shoo, that’d be great.”

  “A date?” Jackson’s soft lips turned into a frown. “You’ve got a date? While a demon is running loose around town? Who with?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but the sheriff. Now, if you’d kindly leave so I can get ready…”

  The Agent’s eyebrows joined his lips in the unhappy expression. “You two known each other long?”

  I arched an eyebrow at him. Why the heck did he care? “He’s been the sheriff of this town for two years, but if you’re asking if we’re a couple, then no. It’s our first date.”

  “You need to cancel on him.”

  I stared at him, gobsmacked. Jackson didn’t even look remotely apologetic for making that kind of statement about my personal life—in fact, he squared his shoulders and stared me down as if he had all kinds of right to demand who I could and could not date.

  “Uh, excuse you,” I huffed, brushing past him to get to my bedroom so I could change my clothes. “I’m pretty sure my dating life is not part of the Agency’s jurisdiction.”

  To my great irritation, he followed me to my bedroom door, but at least stayed outside it when I closed it.

  “At this point, we don’t know who the demon is—getting intimate with someone you don’t know that well is a bad idea,” he rumbled through the door.

  It wasn’t exactly that I was excited about this date in any way, shape or form, but having this near-stranger of a man telling me what I could and couldn’t do? “I’ve known him for two years. Everyone in town adores him. There’s a bigger chance that you are the demon than he is,” I snapped while shimmying out of my jeans and picking up the strappy dress I’d decided to wear for the night. It wasn’t overly formal, but it fit my curves nicely without being vulgar. I rarely got a chance to dress up, so even if I wasn’t particularly interested in impressing sheriff Don, it still felt nice to be wearing something other than my trusty jeans, t-shirt, and apron.

  “We don’t know how long it’s been here. It might have been a sleeper, integrating itself into your town so no one would suspect it,” Jackson said, while I brushed my hair out and smeared on a bit of lipstick. Despite the aggravating circumstances—namely, being blackmailed into a date with a man that gave me the heebie jeebies and having a boneheaded shifter trying to lecture me through my bedroom door—a small burst of feminine pride made me smile at my own reflection. I might not have been supermodel material, but I cleaned up nice enough.

  “You say he’s only been here for two years? It could easily be him. Besides, there’s something shifty about him,” Jackson continued, drawing my attention away from my mirror.

  I sighed and put the lipstick into my purse before sticking my feet into a pair of low heels and opening the bedroom door. “Why do you even care?” I asked the big man who was leaned against the opposite wall in the hallway, arms crossed over his wide chest. “Even if he turns out to be a demon and sucks me dry of magic, wouldn’t you and all your shifter buddies be happy about a dead witch?”

  I pushed past him, not waiting for an answer, headed for the kitchen. The brew had simmered long enough and was now a thick molasses bubbling lazily in the cast iron pot. I grabbed the bowl of crystal powder and dumped its contents into the pot before turning off the stove.

  “Not when I need said witch to take out that demon,” Jackson said from the doorway. “Don’t need you fucking a suspect.”

  I frowned and looked up at him. “Don’s a suspect? Why?”

  Jackson shrugged, but his focus seemed to have shifted from my face down to my cleavage. “Just a hunch. Call it experience.”

  “I’ll call it paranoia.” I folded my arms across my chest. “And my eyes are up here.”

  Instead of the expected embarrassment, Jackson just shrugged. “You got great tits. Don’t show them off if you don’t want a man looking.”

  My blush was instant and red-hot. “That’s—!” I didn’t get any further before a knock on the door interrupted me.

  Shooting him my best death glare, I stomped toward the door and tried to push past him—but a large, warm hand on my bare shoulder stopped me as efficiently as a solid wall.

  “Don’t,” he said, his voice a low growl. “He’s dangerous.”

  Startled, I looked up into his dark gaze. The shiver that ran through my body from the look in his eyes seemed to melt my muscles, heat radiating from his touch all the way down to my abdomen.

  I flinched away from his hand and fled toward the door, my heart pounding a million miles per hour in my chest. What the flipping heck was that?

  As I ripped the door open to Don’s smiling face, I knew one thing for certain: the sheriff was nowhere near as dangerous as the stranger whose mere touch had just made me wish he’d kiss me.

  7

  POPPY

  Sheriff Don’s wide smile withered some when he looked above my shoulder, and I could only presume he’d spotted Jackson’s large, looming figure behind me.

  “Are you ready, Poppy?” he said, forcing his gaze from Jackson to me. His eyes swept up and down me with an appreciative gleam, some of his initial grin returning. “You look good enough to eat.”

  I killed my wince at his unfortunate phrasing. The poor guy couldn’t know my unwanted house guest had just claimed he might be a demon, and though I didn’t believe him, the idea of having my magic eaten by a demon wasn’t in the least appealing. “Sure am. Jackson, you best leave now so I can lock up.”

  A low, threatening noise that didn’t sound all too human made its way out of Jackson’s throat, and I glared at him over my shoulder. His eyes were focused on Don, the warning in them unmistakable. I even saw his nostrils flare, as if he was trying to sniff out any demonic scents on the poor sheriff.

  Shifters.

  “I don’t believe we’ve met,” Don said, clearly doing his best to sound unaffected by the aggression rolling off Jackson in near-palpable waves.

  “Jackson,” Jackson said, grabbing the sheriff’s outstretched hand so tight his knuckles whitened. “Poppy’s cousin. I’ll be waiting for her to get home in one piece.”

  I swallowed my disbelieving snort at the agent’s impression of a caring relative and shooed him out the door, locking it after us.

  Don narrowed his eyes at Jackson for a moment before he put his hand on my lower back. I stopped myself from moving away—it was a date, after all, even though my body’s complete lack of reaction to his touch stood in sharp contrast to how hot under the collar Jackson’s had gotten me only moments before. I was in so much trouble.

  “I’ll make sure miss Rose is safe and sound, just like I do all the citizens in Thompson’s Mill,” the sheriff replied curtly as he herded me down the stairs, ensuring I was on the side of him furthest from Jackson.

  “Oh yes, how is the in
vestigation of that poor woman’s death going? Still benched as a suicide?”

  I twisted my neck around to stare at Jackson. Trying to needle the unsuspecting town sheriff about a clearly supernatural death seemed awfully unprofessional for an Arcane Affairs agent. Not to mention, if he truly believed Don was a demon, then showing an interest in his victim was no way to keep a low profile. What the heck had gotten into him?

  “I can’t discuss police business, I’m afraid,” Don said with a stiff smile when we reached the front door. I locked up after us. “Now, if you’ll excuse us… Poppy, I believe our dinner reservations are ready.”

  “Sure,” I said, forcing myself to smile at Jackson. “See you later… cousin.”

  “You bet,” the shifter rumbled, dark eyes never leaving the sheriff. “I’ll be waiting.”

  I could practically feel Jackson’s gaze following us as we walked down the pavement, the sensation of those dark eyes boring into my neck only easing once we’d turned right down Main Street.

  “I’ve never heard you talk about a cousin,” Don finally broke the awkward silence. “Are you two close?”

  I grimaced. “Er… no, not really. He was just in the area and decided to stop by.”

  “’Cause the rumor ‘round town is that you claimed he was some stranger looking for directions,” he continued, arching an eyebrow at me.

  “It’s complicated. Our family has issues,” I muttered, feeling myself redden. “He’s just a second cousin, anyway.”

  “Hmm,” Don hummed. “He looked like he wanted to take a swing at me. What have you been telling him?”

  I winced and offered him a big, tense smile. “Oh, don’t take it personally. He gets really protective. Can we not spend the night talking about Jackson, please?” It was bound to be awkward enough as-is; no need to add the bonus of me having to come up with lies about my supposed cousin and his ill manners.

  “Sure, sure,” the sheriff said, his hand once more finding my lower back. “It’s just I’ve never heard you so much as mention your family before, and neither has anyone else.”

  I really shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d been fishing for gossip about me around town, but somehow it still felt a bit violating. “That’s because I don’t talk about them,” I said, biting down my irritation just as we stopped outside the doors of one of the town’s most well-known restaurants.

  Thompson’s Mill didn’t have a vast surplus of fancy restaurants, and Pete’s Bar & Grill was renowned for its excellent ribs and steaks. I mentally gave Don a couple of points for his choice of restaurant. Perhaps this night wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

  We were seated quickly enough, and Don was a perfect gentleman, waiting for me to be seated before he sat down himself, and he only snuck glances at my cleavage when he thought I wasn’t looking. I was starting to get the feeling that maybe I’d been wildly unfair to him these past couple of years when just the thought of going on a date with him gave me the willies, when the waitress for the night arrived at our table.

  “What can I get y’all tonight?” she asked, cocking her hip as she pulled out her pen and pad.

  I opened my mouth to order the T-bone steak I’d been eying up from the menu when Don cut in. “A bottle of your good wine, and an appetizer plate of tacos, for starters. Then for mains, I’d like a bucket of ribs with curly fries, and the lady will have… a Caesar salad.”

  I stared open-mouthed at my dining companion, who looked awfully pleased with himself for having been all manly and taken the lead. Really? A salad? Did he think I looked like a salad kinda girl?

  “Yeah, strike the salad—the lady’s having a T-bone steak. And a pint of Pepsi, please,” I said, smiling sweetly at the waitress. “Extra ice.”

  “Sure thing,” she chirped, expertly pretending like there wasn’t an awkward silence from the other side of the table before she turned around to put our order in.

  “So…” Don cleared his throat. “It’s nice to be out, huh?”

  “Sure,” I said. “Do you go on dates much?”

  “Nah, not really. It’s hard to find quality girls in a small town like this.” By the way he smiled at me, I was sure it was meant as a compliment, but then he continued, “Everyone our age either has five kids or is a complete slut.” He chuckled. “Or both! Boy, the stories I could tell ya about some of the ladies in town…”

  I felt my cheeks stiffen from the forced smile still frozen on my face. Whaddaya know—apparently, my instincts when it came to the town sheriff had been right on point all along. He wasn’t actually a nice guy, after all. And here I was, stuck on a date with him for the next couple of hours. Lucky me.

  Perhaps Don caught on to my less-than-impressed mood, because he spent the next forty-five minutes—only briefly interrupted by occasional nacho munching once our starter arrived—on telling me about all the exciting ways you can catch a bass on the big lakes down in Missouri. Sometime around when our mains arrived at the table, he possibly noticed my glazed-over expression, or he’d finally run out of fish-related topics, because he swapped to a thorough and detailed explanation of what he was looking for in a woman.

  By the time the waitress came around to ask us if we’d like dessert, I knew that my date for the night enjoyed “women with body” who could cook—which kind of explained why he’d been interested in me in the first place—who didn’t have or want kids, and who enjoyed “romantic days on the lake.” Presumably watching him fish.

  “I’ve always wanted kids. At least three,” I said, giving him a bright smile before turning to the waitress. “No thanks on the dessert, hon. The meal was excellent, though.”

  “Well, I certainly enjoy practicing baby-making,” Don said as the waitress disappeared to get our bill. He gave me a smirk. “Want to take dessert back to yours, then?”

  I gaped at him. Which part of this disastrous date had seemed like it would end up at my place? For either home-baked desserts or baby-making practice?

  And just then, like a dark-haired angel from above, Jade, of all people, appeared right behind Don, beer in hand. Her free palm she brushed over Don’s shoulder as her face split in a wide smile. “Hi, you two! Didn’t know you’d take Poppy to Pete’s, Sheriff.”

  I could have kissed her. “He sure did. We were just about rounding off for the night, though, so you couldn’t have popped up at a better time! If you don’t mind, we can go over tomorrow’s baking plan now? I’m so sorry to hijack your night out, but I was just too busy getting ready for this date to do it in the afternoon… like we normally do.”

  Jade’s smile turned impish at my desperate attempt at getting her to play along by making grimaces above Don’s head.

  “Sure, that’s okay,” she said, taking a sip of her beer.

  Relieved, I turned to Don to to thank him for the night—but came up short at the look on his face. His eyes were weirdly dark, and his mouth turned up in a silent snarl.

  “You little cunt—you think you can just flash your tits and not put out? You and I are gonna fuck.” His hand shot out and wrapped around my wrist, squeezing until it became painful.

  “Goodness, Don,” I gasped, too stunned by this complete switch in character to smack him across the face like I would have anyone else who spoke to me like that. “What’s gotten into you?”

  He stood up, staring me down from his much higher vantage point with something akin to hatred burning in his eyes. “Come on, cunt. Time to go.”

  When he yanked on my arm to pull me toward the door, I finally snapped out of it and dug my heels in. “Absolutely not! I don’t know if it’s the wine or what’s gotten into that thick skull of yours, but I’m going nowhere with you! Let go of me!” I was still hissing rather than shouting at the top of my lungs, the shocked part of me who’d considered the sheriff a nice enough guy if not at all my type still not quite ready to make a scene. Neither of us would fare well if we woke up as the hottest town gossip tomorrow morning.

  “Okay, sheriff, it’s time
for you to go home now,” Jade cut in, her hand coming down on top of his arm. “Go sleep it off.”

  Don let go of my arm as if she’d pushed a button. He glowered down at me, his jaw working, but he didn’t say anything more. He just grabbed his coat and stormed out of the restaurant, leaving Jade and I to stare at each other.

  “I…” I said, not knowing how to even begin processing what had just happened.

  “I take it your date didn’t go all that well?” Jade asked. She took another swig of her beer and sat down in Don’s abandoned seat.

  “Not really, but… I have no idea where that came from. He was so angry.” I took a deep breath in when I realized my voice was shaking. “Thank you for stepping in.” Not that I had any idea what a tiny young woman like Jade could do to make a big guy like the sheriff back off like that. She was about as short as I was and thin as a rail. If she weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet, I’d have been surprised. Maybe it was just the realization that someone else had seen his appalling behavior that comforted me.

  “I should get home,” I murmured, digging into my purse for some cash. Just the rotten cherry on top—he’d left me to settle the bill, as well. “I think I need a good, long soak before bed.”

  “I think you should stay a bit,” Jade said, leaning in over the table to tap her hand on the desk in front of my seat. “He’s probably gone home to sleep it off, but just in case.”

  I paled when I realized what she meant. With how angry he’d been, I couldn’t guarantee he wasn’t lurking somewhere on the way to my flat. I shuddered, not wanting to think through what he might do if he got me alone right now.

  Numbly, I sat down opposite Jade and grabbed my still half-full glass of wine.

  “Have you got any idea what could have gotten into him?” Jade asked. “Has he ever acted like this before?”

 

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