by M. L. Briers
Kent resisted the urge to growl, but her words had ignited a fire within him that demanded he started ripping off arms and killing people until he found her … boyfriend. That thought felt like a knife in his guts.
His beast rose up within him. It was wholeheartedly in on that plan to start a killing spree.
“Name him so I can kill him,” Kent growled.
“Seriously?” Darby tried for shocked with a side order of looking at him as if he’s just grown another head or thrown up on her.
“Deadly.”
“No, poor vampire, he’s done nothing but love me…”
“Vampire!” Kent’s dark, murderous glare snapped towards Karl.
“Don’t look at me,” Karl shot back before he rolled his eyes back in his head. “That’s like me blaming you for the Direwolves deaths in Game of Thrones.”
“No, it’s not…” Kent’s face twisted in disbelief.
“Yes, it is, and you can’t hold me responsible for your mate getting lustful with a vampire. I am not the keeper of my brethren.”
“Lustful…” Kent growled louder.
“Careful there, wolfsie, you’re in human territory now,” Darby offered with a slight tease to her tone.
“Tell me this bloodsucking leech’s name,” Kent demanded.
“Sure, I’m not going to take any offense whatsoever at that slur,” Karl bit back.
“Keep out of this, vampire,” Kent growled.
“Oh, vampire – what happened to brother?” Karl grumbled. “How like a witch to come between family.”
“She is family,” Kent growled.
“Not yet, she’s not,” Virginia growled, and it looked to Darby like the she-wolf would rather that never happened.
“Geez, you people have issues,” Darby said, stirring the pot, and waiting for it to boil over.
“His name,” Kent demanded.
“I’m not going to throw the love of my life under the crazy bus,” Darby snorted.
“That’s it!” Kent exclaimed.
“What is?” Darby asked, enjoying the atmosphere, even if she did wish she was anywhere but there right then.
“You’re coming home with me,” Kent said.
Before Darby could say another word, even one in protest, she found herself hanging down Kent’s back with a view of his backside that sent a rush of excitement through her veins, at the same time that annoyance flared within her.
“I will hurt you,” she bit out, finally slapping her brain back into gear and off the tempting view of his backside.
“Go ahead,” Kent shot back over his shoulder as he stalked towards his truck.
“I’ll…scream,” Darby was all about escaping in one piece, not about landing on her head if she zapped the guy and he dropped like a swatted fly while taking her with him.
“Be my guest, people around here love me,” Kent said, and Darby bit down on her annoyance.
She was fast running out of options, but going to pack land didn’t seem like a good one.
~
~
~
Alf narrowed his eyes and grunted in disbelief, there was his brother, Kent, sister, and the vampire, and his brother had an unfriendly looking woman slung over one shoulder as he stalked towards his truck. Alf’s internal panic button was triggered, they were in the middle of town, and he slowed the truck as his brother spotted him and looked a lot sheepish and a little proud of himself.
“What’s that?” Alf asked, pulling up beside his brother and eyeing the pair through the open window.
“That?” Kent shot back, raising one dark eyebrow to chastise his alpha for his choice of words.
“Who is that?” Alf grumbled, just as Darby’s head snapped up and she offered him a very convincing version of the evil eye. “Another witch?” he bit out.
“Another?” Kent eyed the interior of his brother’s truck and the two woman inside. “They’re…?”
“Oh yeah,” Alf nodded.
“And are they…mates?” Kent grimaced.
“Not you as well? Damn, it’s like fate was having a clearance sale,” Alf grumbled.
“Excuse me?” Harper shrieked and that sound echoed inside the small space of the cab and Alf grunted in pain as it reached his ears.
“We’ll meet you at home,” Alf rushed out.
He just wanted out of the truck and into the fresh air. His mate’s scent had been messing with him since he’d been in that confined space, and his wolf wanted out.
His length was harder than hell and squashed inside his jeans causing it to ache and not in a good way.
“Do you wanna explain…?” Harper started.
“Nope.” Alf rushed out, hitting the pedal and building his speed as fast as he was able to go. He knew that he had to have consideration for the fact that he had two human females in the truck and he didn’t want to risk breaking them.
“Do it anyway.” Harper wasn’t about to drop it.
“Nope.”
“Chicken,” Harper said, folding her arms, and pushing back against the seat like a pup having a bout of temper.
“Damn, those beans were good. I feel another fart coming on,” Alf offered her a sideways smirk and saw her top lip twitch with annoyance as she flicked a glare at him. She fidgeted a little in place, and he knew he’d got her attention.
“Can I get out and walk?” Joy grumbled.
“Nope,” Alf shot back over his shoulder.
“Why do I have to suffer because she’s being mean?” Joy grumbled adopting a similar stance to her friend.
“So much for solidarity,” Harper grumbled.
“Consider yourself her moral compass,” Alf said.
“You might as well go ahead and let those farts rip because she’s never going to listen to me.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
~
“Darby,” she said, introducing herself to the other witches that seemed to be suffering the same fate that she was.
“I’m Joy, and this is Harper.”
“So, we need to escape, right?” Darby said, eyeing the bedroom where they’d rushed off to as a group to wash-up. Not that there was any washing going on, but there was safety in numbers in Darby’s reckoning, and it gave them a chance to conspire.
“We’re not prisoners,” Joy said, looking a little confused as she shot a look at Harper to back her up.
“You want to be a mate to one of those…” Darby waved her hand towards the bedroom door instead of using her words.
“He threatened my door, killed one, ripped it right off,” Harper said with a sigh.
“O-kay,” Darby gave a small nod of understanding when in truth, she had no idea what the woman was going on about.
“And he farts in closed cars,” Harper said in disgust at remembering the stench as if it was right under her nose. “It might have been beans going in, but coming out it was like a poisonous cloud of pure unadulterated sh…”
“Graphic, but a good reason to leave, right?” Darby offered with a little hope in her voice. “Just imagine that at the dinner table, or escaping from under the covers all night long, night after night, after night.”
“Cow poop has a better smell,” Harper turned her nose up.
“All the more reason to leave, right?” Darby tried again, but Harper seemed to be in cloud cuckoo land, and Joy just looked lost. She had to wonder what it took to rile these two witches up.
“I’ve found something buried in the back of the refrigerator drawer that had gone all black a moldy that smelled better than him,” Harper said, and Darby’s eyes almost rolled back in her head.
“Oh, for the love of the Goddess, will you snap out of it!” she exclaimed, and Harper took a long moment to really take her brethren in and consider her words.
“You seem to have a real flea in your ear about leaving,” Harper said, suddenly suspicious of all the haste.
“You want to stay?” Darby said, curbing her temper and playing the long game. “I mean, speaking of
fleas, in ears or otherwise, like on a wolf – that’s going to be the family pet – only … wait! It’s not the family pet, it’s your mate, hmm?”
“Well…” Joy started, but Darby cut her off.
“The drooling, the shedding, the eating habits, the attitude, and that’s the men, don’t even get me started on their wolves…” she paused for a breath and Joy shot Harper a nervous look, and Harper frowned, “Wolves drooling, shedding, eating habits…” she shrugged. “But hey, if that sounds like loves young dream and is the happily ever after that you two envisaged for yourselves when you pictured finding the one.”
“Clark’s not that bad…” Joy started, and Darby cut her off.
“Sure, he’s great to look at, right?” she enthused, and Joy started to grin from ear to ear.
“Aren’t they all?” Harper snorted her contempt for the alpha and his damn muscles and great forearms – damn, but she really needed to get over those forearms.
“Right!” Darby said, picking up on Harper’s comment to highlight it to Joy. When Joy shrugged, Darby wanted to headbutt the wall. “Looks good, but what about where it matters?”
“Oh, Clark’s package looks big,” Joy said, nodding her head and looking impressed and a little too enthusiastic for Darby’s liking. If she wanted to get the witches onside, starting with the happiest one didn’t seem like the way to go.
“That’s – great,” Darby said, then winced. “I was kind of talking about the brains department, but – if sex is just about all that matters to you then I’m sure that Clark is fully able to give you your happily ever after in that department…”
“Not … all,” Joy said, shrugging again as if she wasn’t quite sure. “But you don’t want a dud, right?”
“That’s true,” Harper nodded.
“But – what about the attitude? I mean – Tarzan was great back in the day when the little woman in her twin-set just wanted some excitement in her suburban life, and being carried off was probably the highlight of her week.” She shrugged again, hoping they were catching up to where she was leading them.
“I liked George of the Jungle, Brendan Fraser was…” Joy said.
“Sexier in the Mummy,” Darby cut her off. “What about you? Do you have a need to be told what to do or are you a real witch?” She aimed that question at Harper and noted when her body snapped to attention, and a little fight came into her eyes.
“I zapped him a few times already. I don’t take orders from anyone,” Harper sneered at the slur.
“Well, that’s all I’m saying, right?” Darby was glad that she’d finally sparked some semblance of life in one of them. “So, to get back to our escape plan…”
“Divide and conquer,” Harper said, raising her chin in defiance. “That farty alpha can chew on his own stench.”
~
~
~
“So, how are we going to handle our mates?” Clark said as the three brothers crossed paths over and over again as they each completed different tasks within the kitchen without managing to get in each other’s way.
“Divide and conquer,” Alf said.
“They’re not an invading army,” Kent chuckled, putting on a new pot of coffee, and turning to watch the alpha grabbing handfuls of biscuits and laying them out on a serving plate, while Clark took care of cutting up a chocolate cake that one of the elder’s had baked for them.
“Says you,” Alf grumbled.
“They’re witches, not shifters; it’s going to take a little getting used to for us, for the pack, and for them,” Clark said.
“So, invading army,” Kent shrugged.
“We need them to spend time with us, away from their own kind,” Alf said, pausing his activity, and thinking about it.
“Their own kind?” Kent chuckled. “They’re not aliens, brother…”
“Pod people,” Clark chuckled.
“Stepford wives,” Kent said with a look of disgust.
“But … witches,” Alf said, first nodding and then shaking his head. “What was fate thinking?”
“That we needed strong mates,” Clark shrugged.
“That we needed our backsides kicked,” Kent snorted a chuckle.
“Speak for yourself.”
“Divide and conquer, it’s the only way to be sure,” Alf said, nodding once more.
“And what are we making sure of?” Kent asked, amused by his brother’s musings.
“That they don’t conspire together in their devious, witchy ways, plotting against us like … like…” Alf said, tossing a look at Kent that asked if he’d lost his mind and reaching for another word.
“You mean – like they are now?” Kent asked, pointing a finger toward the ceiling, and watched as Alf snapped to attention as if he’d suddenly heard an intruder.
“Damn it!” Alf growled, tossing the cookies down on the plate, skirting the counter, and heading for the kitchen door. “This is not good tactics in our fight to woo our mates.” He muttered.
“I don’t think the word fight should be in the same sentence as the word woo,” Clark offered.
Kent and Clark tossed a look at each other, and they both shrugged.
“Personally,” Kent said, leaning in and lowering his voice so that Alf couldn’t overhear him. “I think he’s already lost the plot.”
Clark chuckled and nodded. “Abso-frigging-lutely.”
“I heard that!” Alf called.
“On the plus side, it’s not affecting his hearing,” Clark chuckled.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
~
“Hush up,” Darby hissed at the other witches as she narrowed her eyes at the back of the bedroom door and frowned as she took a moment to listen. “I hear footsteps.”
“As long as you’re not seeing dead people then that’s fine,” Joy tossed back. Harper grinned.
“Remember our plan, divide and conquer,” Darby whispered.
“But that means we have to spend time with our mates, like one to one. Isn’t that bad for the whole mating pull thing that fate tossed in for the fun of it?” Joy hissed in a whisper.
“We’re already infected with fate’s backup plan for resistance to having freedom of choice. We just need to fight it,” Darby assured her.
“But, I thought the longer you spent with your mate, the worse it got, like itchy chickenpox or something, a festering boil that…”
“She’s cheery, talk about pessimistic, Eeyore’s got a sunnier outlook than she has,” Darby chuckled. Then she heard those heavy footsteps stop outside the door and she raised her hand to silence the others like she was conducting a military exercise. “He’s here.”
The three witches all turned their attention towards the closed door in anticipation of who was on the other side. You could have heard a pin drop inside the silence of the room, and as Alf craned his head to listen to the racing heartbeats of the three witches, he knew that they’d been up to something. Their silence spoke volumes.
“Boo!” Harper screamed out, and her friend’s jumped, but not as far as the alpha did on the other side of the door.
There was a low rumble of a growl that pierced the newfound silence of the room, and Harper stifled a chuckle.
“It’s just happy,” she informed the others.
“That doesn’t sound happy to me,” Darby said.
“That’s what she calls her mate…” Joy informed her, but Harper snorted her contempt for her friend.
“Can we not refer to him as my mate?” She bit out.
“But, he is,” Joy shrugged.
“He’s also a giant, misogynistic, pain in the backside and an egotistical, butthead thorn in my side – and yet, I prefer to call him – happy,” Harper glared at her friend as another, longer rumble of a growl rolled in towards them.
“Food,” Alf snapped out.
“And he has a pet name for you, that’s cute,” Darby offered back, offering her a teasing grin.
“On the table. Downstairs. Now.” The alpha growled, addin
g bits along the way as he thought of them.
His mate had made him jump like a female on fright night, and that annoyed him. He’d been listening so intently to their heartbeats that when the silenced was pierced by her shrew-like scream, not only had it made him jump, but his ears were still ringing.
“And listen to that, he compartmentalizes everything,” Darby said. “That’s just so…”
“Weird,” Harper said, and on the other side of the door, Alf’s eyes rolled back in his head as he groaned inwardly.
He sneered and silently mimicked the witches. He’d been thrown off his game by their very obvious sneaky antics and his mate’s Banshee-like scream, but he was ready for them now.
“Not hungry,” Harper called back, and Darby elbowed her, skimming her ribs, and bringing a glare back at her.
“I thought you were just saying you could eat?” Darby twisted her hand in the air like she was winding something up, other than Harper’s annoyance gene, and urged her to think about it by tapping her temple. “No point in cutting off your nose to spite your face and going hungry just because your mate has no manners.” She grinned when realization registered on the witch’s face.
“Please,” Alf growled, and the women had to bite down on their amusement. They could hear the sneer in the alpha’s tone.
“See, old dog, new tricks, we’ll have him trained in no time,” Darby teased.
“Can you teach him not to fart in polite company?” Harper grumbled, aiming a sneer at the back of the door.
“Sure, that’s easy – just zap him every time that he does it,” Darby tossed back.
“Like one of those dog collars,” Joy said, looking disgusted at the thought. “I hate those things; it’s cruel.”
“But he’s not a dog; he’s a mate,” Darby said.
“True,” Harper teased and waited for the responding growl that rolled into the room a few moments later. “I wouldn’t zap his wolf, but he’s definitely free game.”
“Come out and eat or I’m coming in there,” Alf growled.
He’d rather that his mate came to him, least of all because he had little trust in her mean streak and door handles after the last time, but more so because of the symbolism that having her come to him represented.