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Witch Hunt (City Shifters: the Pack Book 1)

Page 41

by Layla Nash

He focused on breathing; even the raspy motor of Cricket’s purr didn’t bother him as the cat settled on their shared laps and made himself comfortable.

  “Well,” a rusty voice said, and Evershaw froze. He didn’t dare move or blink or think. Deirdre’s head rested slowly on his shoulder, and she exhaled a breath that sounded like she’d been holding for weeks. “Isn’t that a lot of mooshy-gooshy love bullshit for Mr. big alpha bossypants.”

  Evershaw squeezed his eyes shut and squeezed her so tight she squeaked, and only barely eased his grip. “You are in so much trouble for making me suffer like this.”

  “It hasn’t exactly been a picnic for me,” she muttered. But where her cheek rested against his skin, warm moisture from her tears revealed she felt more than she revealed.

  Evershaw turned his head enough to kiss her forehead and her cheek, sliding his fingers into her hair to hold her closer. “I will spend every day of my life making it up to you, witch. With everything I have and everything I am.”

  She sighed and nuzzled closer to him, her arm linking slowly around his neck, and Evershaw’s throat burned. “I love you, witch.”

  Deirdre exhaled a shaky breath, pressing her face against his throat, and held so tightly to him he didn’t think they’d ever be pulled apart—which was fine by him. Her voice came out small but still strong, even though it cracked and pitched high with emotion. “I love you, too, even though you’re too bossy.”

  “I’ll work on that.”

  “And even though you don’t do any chores yourself.”

  “I’ll work on that, too.” He started to smile; he couldn’t help it.

  “And you should be nicer to my cat.”

  Evershaw shoved Cricket off his lap as he started laughing, wrapping both arms around her as Deirdre protested, and rolled them both to the floor so he could actually feel all of her pressed against all of him. The cat hissed and swatted his head, but Evershaw didn’t give a damn. Deirdre was back.

  Chapter 76

  Deirdre

  It took a while to feel like I was back in my own body. I couldn’t explain where I’d been, just that I wasn’t... there. I wasn’t where I needed to be, and I knew that with a certainty that gave me something to hang onto, but there wasn’t any way to describe the difference. Not that I wanted to. Feeling so adrift in complete nothingness... I shivered at the thought, even in the bright sunshine, and Miles immediately crouched next to me where I sat in the garden. “Do you need a blanket? I’ll get your sweater.”

  “I’m fine, Miles,” I said, even though I suspected I really wasn’t. Something still felt off. But if I didn’t tell Miles I was fine, he would tear apart the house and most of the city looking for whatever might make me feel better.

  He frowned, eyeing me, then gestured at where Mercy stared at Iskander on the porch. She arrived at a run with both sweater and blanket, despite that I sighed in exasperation and protested that I was perfectly comfortable.

  I would have told him what actually made me shiver—the thought of that awful nothingness—if I didn’t know for a fact that it would just make him crazier. But Miles stood over me until I shrugged into the sweater and threw the blanket in his face, then he went back to digging the hole for a new elder tree I wanted to plant. I’d come up with all kinds of manual labor for him to do around the house, mostly so I could watch him work with his shirt off.

  It was so nice to be back in my house with my things—though the pack came and went as they wanted—and to have him there as well. I knew it wouldn’t last, since he’d have to go back to the pack house and downtown and I’d have to choose. Again.

  Something remained unsaid between us, although I wracked my memory and couldn’t think of what it might have been. I remembered everything up to Palmer’s spell rising up, then everything blurred into nothingness beyond that blank, vague silence. But there hadn’t been anything I’d promised or he’d promised... It bugged me like a missing tooth, the gap more and more noticeable because I worried at it and couldn’t get a sense of what had been normal before.

  Mercy lingered as Miles went back to digging, and she flopped onto the grass next to my chair. Cricket stalked through the grass, which they’d let grow longer for some reason, and eyed Miles with significant disdain. Regardless of what Miles said, though, Mercy and Henry both let slip that Miles fed Cricket and talked to him and even put the cat on my lap when Miles wasn’t there to claim his territory. It made me smile just thinking about it, and I started shaking my head as Miles picked up a pickax and swung it into the rocky soil.

  The younger wolf next to me leaned against the chair, fiddling with a piece of grass. “If I asked you something, would you keep it to yourself and not tell anyone else?”

  “Does it have something to do with you being in love with Iskander?”

  She froze, her mouth gaping open, then flushed deep purple. “N-No.”

  I laughed, wiggling my fingers at Cricket so he gave up on whatever bug he chased and instead trotted over to hop onto my lap. I couldn’t even argue with Miles anymore about Cricket being fat; he’d gained some serious poundage in the almost month that I’d been gone. “It’s fine, Mercy. You’re allowed to have crushes and find men attractive. He’s a fine-looking man. Got shoulders for days and an ass that just—”

  “I can hear you, witch,” Miles grumbled, giving me a dirty look over his shoulder.

  I smiled pleasantly, rubbing my chin on Cricket’s head since I knew that drove Miles crazy. “If you don’t like what you’re hearing, maybe don’t eavesdrop. Dear.”

  “I have great hearing and you’re loud as a fucking blue jay. I can’t help it.”

  Maybe the whole world could feel the love between us; I could practically see it in a dense gold-red braid, linking us and then spreading out like the branches of an enormous tree. Holy Mother help me and guide me, I was a fool for that man. I couldn’t get enough. Even when he was being a dick.

  “Then why don’t you be a goddamn gentleman and go work somewhere else? Or are you going to make me drag my broken ass around to the other side of the house?”

  “If anyone’s dragging your ass anywhere, it’ll be me.” He stalked up, dripping sweat, and leaned over me to pin me to the back of the chair. I spluttered at all the man sweat and stink and bits of dirt that got tossed in the mix as well, and Miles planted a kiss on me that curled my toes. I even forgot to be mad. Then he straightened up, eyed me with that lusty predator’s look, and tweaked the end of my nose. “But fine. If you want to gossip and braid hair with Mercy, I’ll go finish digging the trench by the back gate. Go ahead and rub on that fucking cat as much as you want. Later I’m going to make damn sure you smell like me.”

  Then he stalked off, all male and primal and snarly, barking orders at some of the pack members who’d been press-ganged into helping with yard work, and completely distracted me from whatever it was I’d been doing and thinking before he showed up and flexed his pecs.

  Mercy giggled, though she waited until Miles was definitely out of earshot before she lowered her voice and went on. “And it’s not entirely about Iskander. Although he’s…intense, isn’t he? And kind of odd?”

  “Honey, I can’t imagine anyone coming out of what he’s been through without being completely odd. Or being able to function at all.” With Miles out of sight, I finally struggled out of the cardigan before I roasted alive in the sun. Iskander and I had talked magic occasionally, and shared some meditation tips and tricks, and the djinn gradually revealed some of his origin and past and the unbearable experiences that led him to being trapped by BadCreek’s evil alpha. It made my heart heavy every time I thought about it, and it made me even gladder that Miles had invited the djinn to stay and relax for a while until he decided what he wanted to do.

  Mercy frowned and tapped her nails against her teeth, not quite looking at me, and I sighed as I scratched Cricket’s ruff. “You said there was something you wanted to ask me?”

  She made a noise, then waved her hands. �
�No, never mind.”

  “Is it about Henry, maybe?”

  Those owlish eyes turned on me. “What do you mean, about Henry?”

  “That you like him and Iskander? That you intend to start your own harem of beefy dudes who carry you around and feed you grapes?”

  She practically fell over, despite being sprawled on the grass, and flapped her hands in alarm. “No, I wouldn’t! I didn’t mean —”

  “I’m teasing you, Mercy,” I said. Maybe my delivery was off. I still felt like I moved out of sync with everyone else, like my timing was too fast or too slow. It was like watching a movie where the lips didn’t quite meet up with the audio, so you were torn between listening and trying to make sense of a face that moved out of time with everything else. “Come on, babe. You can tell me whatever you want. I won’t spill to Miles, I promise. Or Iskander. Or Henry.”

  She covered her face and flopped onto her back in the grass. Cricket saw his opportunity and hopped out of my lap, landing with all four paws and all his weight on her stomach, making the girl sit up with an oof that had me wince in sympathy. When she caught her breath, though, she didn’t look any closer to revealing her confession. “I don’t know. I still need to get my own thoughts all straightened out.”

  Someone called from the porch about lunch, and I started the long process of standing up. In addition to being out of step, I’d also aged a million freakin’ years and moved like my joints were rusted in place. Iskander promised it would loosen up eventually and I’d be back to normal, but I didn’t know what he was basing that on. As much as I wanted to trust him, it was also hard to believe I could be so miserable in that moment and eventually wouldn’t be.

  “I know how that is,” I said as Mercy hopped up and set Cricket on my chair. She helped me with the trek across the yard without just carrying me, like Miles did, or worrying and fussing the whole way, like Henry did. “Just know your own mind about whatever it is before you go asking anyone else. You can always take on good input and ignore the bad, if you’re certain of how you feel before other people start whispering in your ear, but if you don’t know that... then you can really get all twisted up. Take your time. There isn’t much that’s a true emergency.”

  She mumbled something under her breath, eyeing the various pack members who were trudging in from all over the block. Miles had glossed over it pretty quickly, but apparently he’d purchased the property around my house. Like, all of it. An entire city block. And from what Henry let slip and clearly wasn’t supposed to, it sounded like a lot more as well. Maybe a couple of city blocks.

  Granted, property in my neighborhood wasn’t particularly desirable or in short supply, but still. It seemed like a strange investment for a guy who already had a hell of a lot of land and multiple buildings perfectly suited to his family’s needs closer to where his businesses were located.

  I was still pondering these slow-moving thoughts, trying to get my feet to match, when Mercy leaned close and whispered, “What if it’s someone outside the pack?”

  I blinked, then smiled as that formerly icy shield around my heart started to warm up again and glow with a healthy fire. “I think that’s even better.”

  “Are you sure? You don’t think Evershaw will…mind?”

  I shook my head and looped my arm around her shoulders. “I don’t think he’ll mind a bit, Sassafras.”

  She groaned and staggered, almost losing me on the steps, and punched Miles in the side when the alpha appeared to swoop me up in his arms. “I still can’t believe he told you that.”

  “Believe it,” Miles said. He was even sweatier and dirtier than before; he must have rolled around in the mud in the backyard.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I wrinkled my nose and pretended to elbow myself loose from his arms, even though we both knew that shit would never happen. “Did you deliberately go stomping around in the compost? How many bags of soil did you use to coat yourself? I swear, you are just—”

  “Keep talking,” he said. There were a few chuckles as everyone kicked off work boots and shed dirty clothes on the porch, since everyone knew the rule about not bringing dirt inside and apparently didn’t give a shit about modesty. Half the time, most of the people in my house were in various stages of undress. Mother would have loved it, but Estelle would be appalled.

  Miles deliberately rubbed his chin across my forehead and wiggled so I’d slide across his sweaty chest. “Now you’re just as mucky as me, witch.”

  I frowned at him, narrowing my eyes even as my heart beat a little faster. “Don’t you dare.”

  “Try and stop me,” he breathed.

  I sucked in a breath but Miles beat me to it, announcing to everyone within at least a half block. “Looks like we’ll be upstairs for a quick bath.”

  “Quick bath my ass,” Henry muttered, then ducked and blushed when everyone else laughed and Miles eyed him. Henry waved his alpha off, trying to pretend nonchalance. “Just leave some hot water for everyone else to shower in a couple of hours, okay?”

  “A couple of hours?” I shook my head, leaning around Miles’s head as he stalked toward the stairs and took us out of sight. “It won’t be—”

  “Oh yes, it will be,” Miles said. He squeezed me tight and stomped up the stairs, his palm sliding under my shirt and across my ribs. “Time to make sure you smell just like me.”

  “Sweaty and like a dude?” I grumbled and huffed, irritated that I’d miss lunch, but I still rested my head on his shoulder.

  Miles kicked open the door to my bedroom, which had been somewhat remodeled and expanded to take up the entire third floor, plus a new add-on that was being built, and stalked right to the bathroom with the ancient, enormous claw-foot tub. “You got it. As sweaty as I can make you, witch.”

  I smiled and started to kick off my shoes. “Promise?”

  A growl was my only answer as he worked the taps, then Miles ripped off my clothes and dragged me to him until my bare skin pressed against his.

  Chapter 77

  Miles

  Through the grime that coated Evershaw like armor, the witch’s skin on his burned. Jokes and innuendo went out the window — when it was just the two of them, there was only instinct. Primal, base, powerful instinct that led to action. Evershaw lowered his head to take her nipple in his mouth, but Deirdre struck his head, blocking his move, and frowned. “You’re all dirty, you barbarian. Shower first. Nookie later.”

  “Nookie?” It was Evershaw’s turn to arch an eyebrow. “Did you just say ‘nookie?’”

  “Yep,” said the witch. “You got a problem with that?”

  “Maybe,” he replied, voice husky and silky smooth. “You expect me to not behave like a barbarian when you’re in my presence, looking like that?”

  “Looking like what?” She bent over the tub and turned the faucet, all the while giving him a sinful view of her tight and altogether too spankable ass. Water started flowing, filling the tub too slowly for Evershaw’s plans. He smacked her ass. The cracking noise reverberated in the room, and Deirdre shot up, startled. “Hey!”

  Evershaw chuckled but — not one to waste an opportunity when one presented itself — moved behind her and pressed his hard cock along the crack of her ass. The witch shivered, goosebumps spreading across her back. He wrapped his arms around her and cupped her breasts. She sighed, the faintest hint of a moan, and it took everything he had to resist bending her over again and taking her then and there, his grimy skin be damned.

  “I want you,” he whispered, breath hot in her ear, and the witch trembled again. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

  She snaked her hand back and gripped the base of his cock tight. “I have a pretty good idea.”

  The witch turned and looked deep into his eyes, promising things that were too fleeting and nuanced for words. Evershaw licked his lips, staring at her mouth and wondering whether he could convince her to lick him back, then gave up the wondering in order to take what he wanted first – her. He went to
his knees and leaned closer, breathing against her slit in a promise of things to come. Deirdre wobbled a little as he kissed the warm swell of her mouth, and she held onto his head as his tongue slid between her lips.

  She started to protest, murmuring something about waiting, but he ignored her and instead flicked his tongue against her clit. She spread her legs, despite the objections, and her knees trembled as she held onto him and moaned. He covered her pussy with his mouth, using the pressure of his teeth against her clit to tease her while his tongue pressed into her channel.

  She panted and her hips moved, trying to grind against his mouth, and Evershaw retreated until she moaned a complaint. Deirdre groaned and dug her fingers into his scalp. “Oh my God, I hate you.”

  “Nah,” he said, and looked up the length of her body to watch as he licked, light as a feather, her folds and circled back to her clit under her hips jerked. He moved carefully to hook her leg over his shoulder, helping her balance, and let her brace against the wall. “You love me and you know it.”

  The look she gave him once again said more than he knew how to put in words. The air around them thickened and the surroundings faded away until only the two of them existed. Evershaw got in the zone, teasing and licking and sucking her until Deirdre panted and moved against him. He retreated just as her breathing hitched and he knew she was close, and dragged his teeth across the inside of her thigh. “Tell me, Deirdre.”

  Her fingers tightened against his hair and she whispered, “I love you. And don’t you dare stop.”

  He chuckled and breathed against her, teasing her opening with his fingers until she moved her thighs farther apart and sighed and rocked her hips. Everything about her did him in: her moans, the way her legs spasmed as he nibbled on her clit, her scent, the soft pressure of her hands against his head…

  She seized up and cried out, her fingers turning into claws, and he held onto her hips to keep her stable as she jerked and her knees started to give. Deirdre held on for dear life as he just sat back and admired her, still teasing her clit with his tongue, until she trembled and whispered, “Wait. Wait.”

 

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