Once Hunted, Twice Shy: A Cozy Paranormal Mystery (The Happily Everlasting Series Book 2)

by Mandy M. Roth

  Hugh snorted.

  He really hated cat-shifters.

  “All the money goes to a good cause,” reminded Buster.

  How could Hugh forget? The entire town had seemed happy about the bet, knowing he’d never be able to win and that the coffers for the new school fund would get a well-needed boost.

  Mrs. Mays walked by, wearing her Sunday best, even though it was a Tuesday. He couldn’t recall a time he’d ever seen her looking disheveled. The elderly woman adjusted her large-brimmed yellow hat and pursed her lips at the sight of the jar. She lifted a gloved hand and pointed a finger directly at him, tsking as she did. Instantly, he felt five years old again. “Shame on you, Hugh. They only just started the collection and look at how full that jar is. You need to learn to mind your tongue. And I haven’t seen you in church in ages. Will I see you there Sunday? Curt makes sure he checks in.”

  Mumbling an apology, he avoided making eye contact with her. The woman could scare the hair off a dog with nothing more than one of her menacing stares. She’d perfected the art of them several decades back, and so far, none could rival her. She’d taught Sunday school for as long as Hugh could remember and she took great pride in all her pupils growing up to be fine upstanding citizens. He didn’t have to imagine her disappointment with him. It showed on her face.

  It probably didn’t help that she’d seen Hugh last week walking around in a T-shirt from a rock band she’d once been sure had secret messages from the dark side on their albums. He’d never actually attempted to play any of their music backward so they very well might have. He knew a few people in town who had sit-down monthly lunches with the devil, otherwise known around Everlasting as Luc Dark, so he wasn’t sure what all the fuss was about. Hell, Everlasting had its fair share of residents who were demons. It wasn’t as though they discriminated against any supernaturals.

  They just preferred to keep humans from taking up residency. They were fine as tourists, coming in and spending their money to infuse the economy, but not with everyday, all-the-time living in Everlasting. There were too many secrets to be kept. Too many humans simply couldn’t know about. The town was full of oddities and people who were more than they appeared to be. Some paid no mind to it. Others made it their life mission to help keep it all a secret.

  None of that changed Mrs. Mays’s views. She’d drag the devil himself into church by the ear if given a chance. If the devil knew what was good for him, he’d keep away from Mrs. Mays.

  Once she was down the street, Hugh focused his attention on the small man near him. At six-five, he towered over Buster, and he already knew alpha poured off him in waves when he was upset. Buster could no doubt feel the power. Hugh shoved another five into the jar, only barely managing to hold in another growl.

  Buster’s grin faltered. His hair was receding, and he was thick around the middle. He was a few years younger than Hugh but managed to somehow look at least ten years older. As far as Hugh knew, Buster had never had a girlfriend, or any love interest for that matter, but he strongly suspected the man had a thing for the secretary at the high school. He’d seen him fidgeting with his bow tie whenever the woman was around. Buster brought attention to his spare-tire waist by wearing sweater vests that were two sizes too small, and plaid shirts with bowties. Nothing about the man was stylish. To each his own.

  “The fund for the new middle school thanks you,” said Buster.

  It was on the tip of Hugh’s tongue to tell the man exactly what he thought of the school fund, but that would probably cost him several hundred dollars in fines, so he went with a rather threatening smile and watched as sweat broke out on Buster’s brow.

  “Don’t eat me,” said Buster, swallowing hard, pushing his glasses up his nose with one hand, while holding the jar with the other. It began to wobble.

  “What will eating you cost me?” asked Hugh, stepping closer. He glowered down at Buster. “Bet it’s cheaper than what I’ve paid so far, and I’m only four days into my month-long cursing ban.”

  Buster paled considerably, and his nose began to twitch. A sure sign he was starting to lose control of his animal side. When Buster squeaked, Hugh knew he was on borrowed time.

  Glancing around, Hugh hoped Main Street wasn’t full of tourists, as it normally was this time of day and year. The annual Cranberry Festival always meant an explosion in population, at least for the month of October in the tiny Maine seaside town. For as much as they liked the money tourism brought to the area, it was certainly interesting trying to keep the town’s secrets under wraps with so many humans roaming around with cameras hanging around their necks.

  The residents of Everlasting wouldn’t be able to easily explain away how a mild-mannered accountant up and shifted shapes into a giant rat in the middle of the street. No. That wouldn’t be something a cover story would do much for—though Everlasting had some of the best cover-ups around. Already this morning he’d seen Templeton, a local known for his eccentric ways, riding down Main Street in a shopping cart, dressed as if he were a general and the cart his tank. Everlasting didn’t need anything else happening in broad daylight.

  “Calm down, Buster,” said Hugh, reaching for the man, only to have him lurch back, his nose twitching faster. “I won’t eat you.”

  Right now, thought Hugh.

  Buster hugged the jar to his chest as if it would somehow protect him should the alpha male shifter have a change of heart about eating him. “You never know when it comes to your kind.”

  By “your kind,” Hugh knew the man meant wolf-shifters. He didn’t take offense. It was the truth. One didn’t ever know if his kind would decide to eat them. Wolves were notorious for their tempers.

  He shrugged and was about to comment more when the hairs on the back of his neck rose. His wolf pushed upward with a speed that nearly caught him off guard. He snarled and had to fight to push it down. A big rat would be hard to explain, but a huge wolf would be even more so.

  Hugh wasn’t sure what prompted his wolf’s outburst. The last time he’d suffered a bout of uncontrolled wolf issues had been puberty, and he certainly hoped he wasn’t going through a version of that again.

  Buster’s nose twitched again as sweat dripped freely from the man. The armpits of his shirt were soaked. It was early October in Maine. Sweating wasn’t something many people did that time of year.

  Hugh caught the man’s arm and tugged him closer. “Stop.”

  “You’re the one making noises like you’re changing your mind about eating me,” managed Buster, his voice barely above a whisper. The smell of his fear called to Hugh’s wolf, making it want to come out and play. “I’ve been told my kind don’t taste very good.”

  Hugh arched a brow, and a lecherous grin eased over his face. “You sure? I’m betting you taste like chicken.”

  Buster gulped.

  Hugh snorted and then paused. It was almost too easy getting the small man riled. “Wait. What do you mean I was making noises like I was going to eat you?”

  “A second ago, you made a noise that suggested you were about to lose control,” said Buster, still clutching the donation jar as if were a lifeline.

  Huge debated on telling the man that the jar would do little to stop him if he did decide to eat him. Sensing Buster was close to wetting himself, Hugh left well enough alone. He took a step back, wanting distance between him and Buster. Lifting his hands in the air, Hugh tried to appear nonthreatening as he walked backward more. “Listen, I promise not to eat you if you promise to stop waving that…awesome…jar in my face.”

  He’d nearly slipped and cursed again.

  Buster’s eyes widened a second before the sound of squealing tires filled the air around them.

  Chapter Five

  One second Hugh was standing on Main Street and the next he was flat on his back, lying in the middle of it, positive someone had hit him with a ton of bricks. He mumbled what he thought on the matter and looked up to find Buster above him, holding the jar out, a knowing look on
his face.

  “That is going to cost you big time,” said Buster, seemingly unconcerned with Hugh’s well-being as he rattled the jar once more.

  With a groan, Hugh attempted to sit up but was shaken and needed a moment to get his bearings. “What the…?”

  “Hold the pickles!” yelled a voice that sounded like an angel.

  A face that matched the sweet-sounding voice appeared above him. The woman had high cheekbones and a narrow nose. Her lips were full, and she had a deep cupid’s bow, making him instantly wonder what her lips would feel like pressed against his. A pair of royal-blue eyes that reminded him of the ocean before a storm stared down at him as a mass of dark brown hair fell forward, nearly eclipsing the woman’s face entirely. The woman was so beautiful that Hugh blinked, confident he’d died and gone to the great beyond.

  If it weren’t for the throbbing pain in his legs, he might have really believed he was dead and an angel was above him. Then again, he wasn’t so sure he was destined for the pearly gates.

  She grabbed her long hair, wrangling it into a self-contained loose bun. She was already on the pale side, but he watched as the color drained from her beautiful face. His gaze naturally eased down the front of her to her breasts, and he drew a brow up at the sight of a puppy dog knitted on her sweater. That certainly wasn’t what he was expecting to find the hot goddess wearing. It looked like something no one out of elementary school would entertain putting on, yet the woman wore it well. It hugged her every curve. Hugh’s body responded in kind, making his jeans feel extra snug in certain areas.

  The longer he stared up at her, the more he realized just how fast his heart was pounding. Her full lips were moving, but he heard nothing over the sound of his own heart beating madly. It was on the tip of his tongue to do something stupid and ask the woman to marry him. He was about as far from the marrying type as a person could get. He was all about no commitments and no strings when it came to dating, but this beauty was one his wolf, and his man side, seemed to want to mark as theirs.

  That freaked him out.

  Reaching up, he touched her cheek, needing to make contact with her. As he did, her hand moved over his, her lips still moving, a frantic look still covering her face.

  “How badly are you hurt?” she asked.

  It took Hugh a moment for his head to catch up with the words. When it did, a lopsided grin spread over his face. “I’m good. What happened?”

  “You walked right out in front of me,” said the woman. “I tried to stop my car, but I wasn’t fast enough. I hit you with my car.”

  That explained the pain. As a shifter, he’d heal quickly and could take a great deal more physical injury than a mere human could. Nothing explained his need to propose to the woman on the spot though. That was still a mystery to him and much more worrisome than being hit by a vehicle. None of it explained the giddy feeling that was spreading over him at the sheer closeness of the woman.

  Buster pushed the jar between Hugh and the woman. “You’ll live. Now pay up, Hugh.”

  With a growl, Hugh sat up faster than someone who’d just been struck by a car should have. As he glanced at the vehicle in question, another round of words that would cost him a pretty penny fell out of his mouth. It wasn’t bad enough he’d been foolish enough to walk out in front of a moving vehicle; he had to do so in front of a hybrid one. Curt would never let him live it down. By the end of the day, the town would be gossiping that he’d been cut down by a golf cart. The grapevine tended to do that to a story.

  The beautiful woman pushed Buster aside and touched Hugh’s shoulder, causing heat to flare through his arm. He gasped and hoped she didn’t notice the effect she was having on him.

  She bent more. “I hit you pretty hard. I should call an ambulance. You need a doctor.”

  He stifled a laugh. What he needed, she’d more than likely not want to give on the spot. “Like Buster said, I’ll live.”

  She gave Buster a hard look, causing the man to back up. He clutched the jar to his chest once more, appearing worried. “He needs to be seen by a medical professional,” she said, as if daring Buster to contradict her.

  Buster gulped.

  Hugh felt for the small man. The woman, while breathtaking and wearing a puppy dog sweater, still managed to come off as threatening. The wolf in Hugh seemed pleased, as if it recognized a bit of alpha in the female.

  Hugh pushed to his feet and winced as pain lanced his right leg. It had probably broken during the accident but was on the mend already with his accelerated healing abilities. “I’m fine. Really.”

  She rounded on him, and he realized Mrs. Mays had nothing on this woman and her ability to strike fear in those around her with nothing more than a hard look. How could someone so beautiful look so deadly? “What are you doing standing? You were just hit by a car!”

  He snorted. “That’s hardly a car. It’s a hybrid. Like a mosquito bite or something.”

  The woman’s eyes widened, and she took a small step back. “I think you’re in shock.”

  “I think you’re beautiful,” he blurted. “Have dinner with me. Wait. What time is it? Have lunch with me.”

  Buster laughed and tried to hide it behind a cough.

  “Hugh, what in the world are you doing out in the middle of the street, holding up traffic?” asked Jolene Bails, her head out of the window of her pickup truck as she pulled to a stop behind the car that had struck him. Jolene glanced at the angel near Hugh and smiled wide. “Penelope, I see you’ve met Hugh. He’s single. Same as you. Snatch her up, Hugh. Quick before someone else does.”

  Penelope blushed, and Hugh nearly did the same. Jolene had always been something of a mother figure to him as he’d lost his mother when he was very young. Rumors surrounding her death had always linked it back to the Messing Hunters, but Hugh never had any hard facts to back it up. Just a lot of small-town gossip.

  Jolene scowled as a sheriff’s car pulled up behind her truck. When Deputy Jake Majoy, better known as March, got out, Jolene cast a worried glance in the direction of Penelope.

  A spike of unwarranted jealousy went through Hugh, as the deputy set his sights on Penelope. He and Jake were friends and he’d never been jealous of the man before.

  As Penelope noticed the man, she tensed.

  “I got a call about a hit-and-run,” said Jake.

  Hugh snorted. “What busybody phoned that in?”

  “There was no hit-and-run,” said Penelope. “There was just a hit-and-stay. I was driving, under the speed limit, and all of a sudden Hugh stepped out into the street. I clipped him with my car.”

  Jake whipped out a notepad and began writing, looking up at random to give a speculative glance at Penelope. Strangely, Hugh felt the need to step partially in front of her, putting himself between the woman and the deputy.

  “So, she struck you with her vehicle?” asked Jake.

  “I stepped out in front of her, so yes. But not hard,” Hugh said quickly. “It wasn’t her fault.”

  “Well, it was kind of hard,” said Penelope, her face now very red.

  Jolene snorted loudly from her truck. “March, stop trying to make the poor girl out to be Norman Bates. There was no crime here. And clearly no hit-and-run. Just a hit-a-Hugh, and he’s fine. Look at him.”

  “Yep, fine,” said Hugh, putting his arms out wide for the man to see.

  Buster grinned. “And he’s clearly smitten with her.”

  Smitten? Who actually said that anymore? Hugh glanced at Buster and groaned.

  Jake stood rooted in place, narrowing his gaze on Penelope. “Miss, you’ve been in town less than a day, and already you’re tied to two dead bodies and have hit a local with your car. I’m almost afraid to see what you’ll do before lunchtime today.”

  Hugh tensed. Two dead bodies?

  Who was dead now?

  Everlasting had to have one of the highest per capita murder rates in the state. That had a lot to do with the fact they were full of supernaturals, and mur
der and mayhem sort of came with the territory. It was really hard to have this many shifters, vampires, and magics in one spot and not have someone end up dead.

  Still, he couldn’t believe the heavenly beauty before him was linked to two deaths. She was still so worked up over hitting him with her car that he was worried he’d need to get her medical attention.

  “As Jolene said, there was no crime here,” warned Hugh. “If anyone should be in trouble here, it’s me. I’m the one who walked right out in front of her.”

  Buster gasped. “Is it me or did Hugh just accept responsibility for something, while avoiding cussing, and did anyone else catch the way he keeps looking at the young lady? Smitten, I tell you. Smitten.”

  Hugh set his sights on Buster, and a low growl began to emanate from the back of his throat. In a flash Buster was sweating again, appearing nervous.

  Jolene laughed. “It wasn’t you, Buster. Hugh knows a good thing when he sees it.”

  Jake stared past him at Penelope. “Ms. Messing, remember what I said about leaving town. And try to stay out of trouble. You’re setting a new town record, and you’ve been here less than four hours.”

  Messing?

  Hugh’s gaze went to the antiques shop and then back to Penelope. No. She couldn’t be related to Wilber. As he stared harder at her, a sinking feeling started in the pit of his stomach. He let out a line of expletives that instantly had Buster holding the jar out before him. “You have got to be kidding me! I was run down by a hunter, and you want me to pay for it?”

  Jake perked. “So she did hit you with her car intentionally?”

  “No,” Penelope said quickly. “I’d never do that. And what did he mean by a hunter? I don’t hunt. I hate the idea of killing poor defenseless animals. In fact, I’m a borderline vegetarian.”