Midlife Strife: A Paranormal Women's fiction Novel (Bells and Spells - Book 1)

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Midlife Strife: A Paranormal Women's fiction Novel (Bells and Spells - Book 1) Page 16

by M. L. Briers


  Josh’s beast rose within him, and he could barely keep the wolf contained. His eyes flashed sapphire blue before turning jet black, his fangs pushed down, and his claws elongated – and he was so close to losing control that he could feel the beast’s fur prickling just beneath his skin.

  “Stop it!” Amber snapped and punched her brother as hard as she could in the chest to make her point in the fastest way that she knew how.

  Scott yanked back on the magic and gave his sister a look of pure disbelief. “Me, you have no problem hitting, but a werewolf breaks into your house and…”

  “Not a werewolf,” Josh bit out with a rumble of a growl in his chest that he couldn’t hold back as he tried to follow the warlock’s lead and pull back on his beast’s reins.

  The witch was in his corner for now – he wasn’t sure why – but if his beast burst from within him, he was pretty sure she’d be yelling at her warlock brother to zap him again.

  That’s how fickle women were – one minute they were throwing you over a damn hedge, and the next they were yelling at a guy for protecting you. But, she was a witch and a redhead – could he have expected anything else?

  “Oh, I’m sorry – that growl sounds like a real medical problem then, perhaps you should visit a doctor for what ails you, or a vet,” Scott shot back and got an elbow in his ribs for his trouble. “Would you stop?” he asked Amber, and his sister snorted her contempt for him.

  “I wish people would stop trying to save me…”

  “From yourself?” Scott asked, and watched as she slowly rounded on him, folded her arms, and gave him that look – the one that reminded him of Grandma Lou.

  “Says you,” Amber said, returning fire. “I’m not the one out there committing crimes and working for bad people.”

  Scott shrugged. “I really don’t think you can class a vampire as a person, but…”

  Amber ignored the sarcasm. “And then you bring trouble back to our door in the form of…” Amber motioned to the shifter who was still on his knees, staring up at her like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  Amber scowled down at him. He looked like he expected to be kicked – poor puppy – but, she couldn’t figure out why, and she didn’t know why he’d come back to help her.

  Maybe he was just a split personality – like his human and wolf side? Perhaps he had a hero complex – whatever it was; she didn’t need saving – by anybody.

  “Go on, say it,” Scott said, noting the way the shifter was looking at her like he couldn’t seem to catch a breath until she spat out her words.

  “Rambo,” Amber said and motioned with her hands to Josh like he was exhibit one.

  “Is that a dog joke?” Josh growled.

  Scott did a double-take on the guy before he turned his attention back to his sister. “It was a good one if it was,” he teased, and the repressed laughter made his eyes sparkle.

  “No, Mr Sensitive,” Amber said, turning her attention from Scott to the shifter once more. “It wasn’t a dog joke, but I’m sure I could fetch one or two if needed.”

  “Don’t start her off,” Scott warned him. “She’s like – well, you with a bone if you do.”

  Amber backhanded her brother and caught him across the chest. “I can take care of this,” she informed him.

  “But he just broke into your house,” Scott said.

  “For the second time,” Amber said. “Maybe even the third, but the jury is out on the last one.”

  “I’m pretty sure I just witnessed the last one, and yep, it was him,” Scott informed her with another flash of a mocking smile.

  “Fine,” Amber bit out, frustrated that between the two men in her house, they were driving her to drink. “The first one, the jury is still out on the first bloody one.”

  Josh felt strong enough to push to his feet. The residue magic that still flowed through him made him want to shake it off, but he wasn’t about to put himself in the firing line for more dog jokes. “With good reason,” he informed her.

  “Sorry, just to be clear, which time?” Scott demanded.

  “The first time,” Josh growled back.

  “So, you admit to breaking in; you just have a problem with the math?” Scott said, seeing the victory dance he was going to make right there in his future.

  “Twice, I said twice, but the second time wasn’t technically breaking in…”

  “Did you break the lock?” Scott asked.

  “Yes…”

  “Breaking in.”

  Josh looked at Amber. “He’s a little slow – do I need to give him a minute?”

  Amber pressed her lips together and covered her failed attempt to hide her smile with her hand, Scott did a double-take at her, and she coughed that smile away.

  “You’re on his side?” Scott asked with a big dollop of disbelief.

  “You have a thing about sides,” Josh said. He liked having the advantage here, and he wasn’t sure how he’d got it, but he wasn’t going to miss a wasted opportunity.

  “It’s called family loyalty,” Scott said. “I would have thought someone in a pack would understand the concept.”

  “He got you there,” Amber said.

  “There you go, Wiz-kid,” Josh said. “She’s back to your side now; does that make you feel better about yourself?” The sarcasm dripped off his tongue and caused Amber to smile again and snort a chuckle.

  Amber had to admit; this was probably the most fun she’d had in a while. She’d almost forgotten that her house had been violated – almost, but not entirely. “Why did you break in?”

  “Which time?” Scott asked and got a glare for his trouble.

  “The first time,” Amber said, giving her brother a cold, hard stare.

  Scott caught that look and doubled down. “Now, would that be his first time or your first time, because there seems to be some irregularities and inconsistencies…”

  “Scott!” Amber snapped, and her brother held up his hands with a mea culpa shrug and turned to look at Josh, deflecting her wrath towards the shifter.

  Josh looked anywhere but at her. “I followed you last night, and I admit I was snooping this morning, but trashing the place – that wasn’t me.”

  Amber thought he sounded genuine enough, but she knew only too well that looks could be deceptive. When Scott went to speak, she snapped another glare at him, and he closed his mouth and held his hands up to his chest in mock surrender. Amber grunted her approval.

  “And the second time was because you screamed,” Josh informed her.

  Amber shot a look right back to the shifter again. “I did not scream,” she said as if he’d accused her of a fate worse than death.

  “You kind of did,” Scott said and shrugged. Then he took a moment to consider it. “It was more of a feminine shriek-y shrill squealy…” His breath escaped his lips when her elbow caught him in the ribs once more, and he bent in on himself.

  “Could you go now?” Amber said to Josh, and then she turned her attention to her brother. “And could you stop?”

  “I’m just getting started,” Scott said, and then he turned his attention to Josh. “But, there’s something not quite right with this one,” he warned her.

  “Hey, I just thought she needed help,” Josh growled, but inside, he thought it might just be more than that.

  “Well,” Amber snapped out. “I don’t,” she said and turned towards the kitchen door. “From either of you,” she called back over her shoulder as she swept out of the room.

  Scott turned to look at Josh and narrowed his eyes on the shifter. The man was watching his sister go like she was a catwalk model shaking her thing – and he didn’t like it. “You can go now,” he said, and Josh reluctantly brought his attention back to the warlock.

  There was so much he wanted to say to Scott, but he managed to bite his tongue. But the man annoyed him no end. What kind of a man brings trouble back to his sister’s door?

  “I’m sure we’ll meet again,” Josh informed him as
he turned and stalked out the way he’d come.

  Scott called after him. “Tell Roland…”

  “I don’t work for Roland,” Josh called back slamming the door against the frame.

  Scott watched the man leave. “No, but you know who he is,” he muttered to himself. There was definitely something wrong with that whole picture, and he needed to find out what it was to keep his sister safe.

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

  ~

  “So, do we still think Sandy might have something to do with all this trouble we’ve been having?” Claudia asked as she swept into Marilyn’s bedroom and got a double take from her best friend.

  Marilyn’s shoulders, which felt as if they’d been up at her ears for the last few days sank, and while it felt better being less uptight, she still felt like she’d had a kick in the pants. “Okay, how do you do it?” she asked with a sigh.

  “I’m just that good,” Claudia said, but she didn’t have a clue what Marilyn was talking about. “Do what?” she asked, hating the suspense.

  “Look that good in the morning, especially after last night,” Marilyn said as if it was an accusation, and in truth, it probably was. She’d love to look that good after eight hours of sleep, let alone five.

  “Miracle cream,” Claudia said, and Marilyn looked slightly hopeful. “Not really – just fancy moisturiser, but come here,” she added but didn’t wait for Marilyn to come to her as she marched over and yanked her to the nearest full-length mirror. “What do you see?”

  Marilyn scowled at her reflection. “Frumpy mommy me and you, perfectly manicured, pedicured, and sexy-cured…” she said and huffed.

  “Now come with me,” Claudia said, but she didn’t wait for Marilyn to oblige, she yanked her out of the room, down the hall, and into the guest bedroom. “Go for it,” she said motioning to her things.

  “For what?”

  “My clothes, makeup – whatever you want,” Claudia said, shrugging.

  “They aren’t going to look good on me,” Marilyn said, and her friend snapped her fingers in front of her face. Marilyn blinked twice.

  “And that’s the problem,” Claudia said.

  “I know,” Marilyn agreed.

  “Not that,” Claudia said motioning to her things and then Marilyn. “But that,” she said, pointing at Marilyn before she poked her in the chest.

  Marilyn looked down at where Claudia had poked her and frowned. “I don’t have time for cryptic, and I need to go help Amber with…”

  “It’s not cryptic; it’s your whole attitude,” Claudia said. “How did you feel last night?”

  “Like a prize plum,” Marilyn grumbled.

  “But you looked great,” Claudia said.

  Marilyn cocked an eyebrow at her. “For a fifty-year-old Cindy…”

  “For anybody,” Claudia shot back. “Because you had the spark – the balls to pull it off…”

  “Amber said – for my age,” Marilyn said, looking decidedly gloomy.

  “Huh?”

  “I looked good for my age,” Marilyn said and flopped down on the bed.

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “I don’t want to be my age,” Marilyn wailed. “I want to be young again – I missed so much,” she said, frustrated that she hadn’t done more with her life when she’d had the chance. “I’ve been a wife and a mother…”

  “And what’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing – well, apart from giving the best years of my life to that rat-basta…”

  “They are only the best years if you don’t do anything with the life you have left,” Claudia said, and Marilyn scowled up at her.

  “Like what – age with dignity?”

  “If that’s all you want – is that all you want?” Claudia demanded, putting her hands on her hips and challenging her friend to be honest with herself for once.

  Marilyn looked as if she wanted to burst with frustration. “No, I want to live disgracefully as you do…”

  “Yes, being disgraceful is the key to happiness,” Claudia snorted a chuckle. “What is it that you think I do?”

  “More than me,” Marilyn said and sighed. “At least you’re out there – doing – things – stuff – having a life.”

  “And why can’t you?”

  “I missed my chance,” Marilyn said, and then froze in place.

  “Oh,” Claudia said, and Marilyn snapped a guilty look at her.

  Marilyn pushed up and headed for the bedroom door. “Forget I said…”

  “Oh, no, Missy, you can’t back out of that one!” Claudia said following on her heels, but Marilyn stopped dead and spun back to face her down with a scowl.

  “I did not say what you think I said…”

  “You mean you said it, and you want me not to mention it again…?”

  “Yes!”

  “No!”

  “That’s not fair,” Marilyn snapped.

  Claudia took a long moment of gleeful contemplation as she studied her fingernails, and Marilyn waited with bated breath. “Too bad,” Claudia said with glee. “You said it – the least you can do its own it.”

  Marilyn opened her mouth, looked as if she was going in for the fight, huffed again, turned on her heels, and carried on walking. “I own a house; I own a car, I do not need to own…”

  “Regret?” Claudia reminded her from just behind her; hard on her heels.

  Marilyn screeched to a halt once more, and Claudia almost hit her in the back, but she managed to pull back as Marilyn turned again to confront her. “We – you and I,” she said motioning between them.

  “I don’t need a dictionary for the word we…”

  “Are never going to speak of this again,” Marilyn said, and started down the stairs, so fast that her poor aching legs and hamstrings protested all the way.

  She would much rather have preferred that she could glide down the stairs – or at the very least to throw herself down without injury, but she just couldn’t bring herself to put any magic behind it at all. She was tired, it had been a tough couple of days, and it wasn’t over yet, and she still needed the little energy she had in reserve, and she wasn’t going to waste it doing witchy tricks.

  “You wish,” Claudia said and stopped her in her tracks just as her feet hit the hallway floor. “You know what you need to do, right?”

  Marilyn had faltered, but now she was headed for the front door. She forced her feet into her ugly shoes, the ones she wore when she had things to take care of in a hurry. Then she yanked on a jacket, grabbed her bag from the wrack, snatched up her keys from the side, and had her hand on the handle. “I need to help Amber…”

  “You need to get laid,” Claudia called, even though she was practically standing behind her, as she snatched her belongings up, ready to follow her friend out the door.

  Marilyn glared back over her shoulder at Claudia and yanked open the front door. She intended for that glare to warn her friend off, but the smile that sprang to Claudia’s lips told her she had other ideas. “Speaking of which,” Claudia said and pointed out the door.

  Marilyn turned to see what her friend was pointing at and came face to face with Neal as he stood at the door looking like a silver fox and grinning from ear to ear like the cat that got the cream. Damn it! And the man had super hearing – terrific; it was all she needed – could her humiliation be any more complete?

  “Not interested,” Marilyn said and tossed the door closed in his face.

  “Harsh,” Neal called, sounding a little muffled through the thickness of the wood.

  Marilyn turned to glare at Claudia, and the witch revelled in it. “I hate you,” she hissed.

  “Then my work here is almost done,” Claudia said with a grin.

  “I’m going out the backdoor,” Marilyn informed her.

  “I can hear you,” Neal called, and Marilyn groaned before she’d even got a foot away.

  “He has great hearing,” Claudia teased her. “Not to mention he’s a speedy little sucker
– emphasis on the sucker – and he can get to the back before you can.”

  Marilyn felt her shoulders weighed down once more with a heavy load, but funnily enough, they also felt as if they were back up around her ears.

  All she’d wanted was a fun weekend – a pleasant visit catching up with her oldest friend – and look what she’d gotten. Her son was working with vampires, was a criminal, and in trouble. Her daughter had her house broken into. Claudia was on a mission to cause mayhem and mischief, and her mother – well, nothing had changed there.

  This was not how this weekend was supposed to go.

  Marilyn turned back to the closed door, huffed, and then tossed up her hands. “It’s a Sunday – can’t I even get a day of rest like a normal person?”

  “Maybe I just stopped by to take you to church,” Neal called, and Marilyn pulled a face, but it was Claudia’s chuckling that got her goat.

  “Stop encouraging him,” she hissed in annoyance.

  Claudia shrugged. “That was funny…”

  “No, it wasn’t,” Marilyn said and nudged her friend out of the way so she could yank the door open again. She stared at the vampire. “Maybe I should take you up on it.”

  “Go right ahead,” Neal said. “Out of the two of us – who do you think is going to be the most uncomfortable sitting in church?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  ~

  Marilyn opened her mouth and closed it again. Then she did it a couple more times before the thought hit her. “Well, that’s only because I have a conscience.”

  “Will you be my conscience?” he asked with a big, teasing grin that turned devilish after a few seconds.

  “Only if I get to zap you every time you do, say, or think anything vampire-ish,” she snapped back.

  “Done, let’s go,” Neal said and motioned to the very expensive sporty number parked outside her house.

 

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