Witching The Day Away: Paranormal Comedy Romance, page 8
“To the blah-blah-blah?” Sister Mary muttered, and knowing she wasn’t going to change the Sister’s mind and get out of there tonight; she started for the kitchen. “Of course,” she said, plastering a big smile on her face and hiding her disappointment.
“There you go then,” Sister Margaret said and agreed with herself by nodding as she followed along behind her. “What an unholy union that’s going to be, a witch and a wolf shifter. I smell trouble ahead.”
“If God didn’t want us to pair up then we’d all be nuns and the human race wouldn’t be here,” Sister Mary said, hoping as she walked into the kitchen that Sister Margaret would peel off and head in another direction, but no, she followed her right inside.
Sister Margaret grunted. “So you’re saying you’re in the wrong vocation? Nuns shouldn’t exist?”
“What? No!” Sister Mary protested. It had been a long day, and her feet were sore. She plopped down onto the straight back chair at the table.
It appeared that Sister Margaret was not going to give up easily. “But if we’re all supposed to pair up…?”
“Except for those doing God’s work. I’m sure he can spare a few…”
“A few what?”
“Nuns! People! Women!” Sister Mary said, getting flustered and correcting herself. She heard Sister Marie giggle as she stood at the sink, a glass of water in hand, trying to look like part of the furnishings.
“What about the men?” Sister Margaret asked, cocking just the one eyebrow at her and making Sister Mary sigh inwardly.
“A few good ones of those too.”
“So, the bad ones fornicate…?”
“What is with you and fornication, Sister Margaret? It’s like you’re obsessed!” Sister Mary stopped talking the moment Father Wolf cleared his throat. She froze in place and cringed in her seat, not daring to look back over her shoulder at him.
“Something you need, Father?” Sister Margaret said, eyeing Sister Mary as if she wanted to wring her neck, but that wouldn’t be nun-like.
“No, no, just came in to see if anyone needed anything before I go to…” He cleared his throat and hooked his thumb back over his shoulder.
“Bet his next word wasn’t going to be fornicate,” Sister Marie muttered.
Sister Mary almost spat out a chuckle. Her cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk in autumn as it stuffed as many nuts as it could in its mouth, and she fought to keep the laughter inside.
“Well, goodnight,” Father Wolf said, turning on his heels and making his escape before anyone said anything else that he might regret or have to deal with. He was sure he’d hear all about it at confession – unfortunately.
Sister Margaret turned a scowl onto Sister Marie. “You’re bad,” she grumbled, before turning her attention to Sister Mary. “And you…” she said, sighing. “Are a bad influence on her.”
“Well, if thinking that a person finding her soulmate is a bad thing, then hands up, I admit it, I’m a sinner,” Sister Mary said. “I think it’s sweet.”
“And what would you do if the big, bad wolf came to your door one night claiming you were a mate?” Sister Margaret said, reaching the doorway, and not stopping as she disappeared into the hallway.
“Oh my, that’s food for thought,” Sister Marie said, chuckling.
“Not really. My love for God is more powerful than my love for one man ever could be.” Sister Mary was sure, certain, that could never happen. She’d had her one dalliance with fate back in the day before she’d found her calling, and fate didn’t knock twice.
~
“Stop stalking me,” Viv hissed back over her shoulder as she reached the smallest hedge and stopped. She’d already scaled that stupid hedge once tonight, she didn’t much like the idea of dicing with death again, but she’d come this far, and she wasn’t going all the way back to the cottage so she could walk around the hedge to her own home.
“I’m not stalking you, I’m following you…”
“There’s no difference,” she said on a huff and berating him with a glare.
“Trust me, I’m the big, bad wolf, and there’s a difference,” Drew said, watching his mate as she did a double take.
Viv huffed. “That might be the first truthful thing you’ve said all night.”
“Huh?” Drew was lost and had to revisit his words.
“You’re the big, bad wolf,” she said, helping him out.
Drew rolled his eyes to the night sky and sighed. His mate was … flat on her face on the other side of the hedge, having taken the opportunity to toss her body over when he wasn’t looking. “Son of a…” Viv hissed, pushing up on her hands, and grumbling curse words like they were going out of fashion.
Drew hopped the fence and landed on his feet beside her. She cut him a glare. “Show off,” she bit out.
“Come on, short stuff.” Drew reached down and lifted her to her feet. “Are you hurt?”
“Am I saying ouch?” she grumbled, brushing herself down. “And nix on the height thing. Good things come in small packages.”
“So does poison,” Drew said, chuckling.
Viv turned towards him and glared up at him. In the moonlight, he had a darker look about him, dark and sexy, sexy and… noooo!
Nope, she wasn’t even going there; bad things happened when you went there in the moonlight, and he was still firmly in the penalty box. She kicked out at his shin and saw that blow register on his face. “Ouch,” he bit out.
“Oh, are you hurt?” she asked, with a mockingly innocent tone that made him grumble.
“I’ll live,” Drew offered back.
“Not if I’m poison,” she said, turning on her heels and starting for her little cottage. She didn’t need to look behind her to know that he was right on her heels, she could feel him there. Then there was the muttering and underlying growl that made her smile. “You sound like Muttley.”
“Well, at least I don’t look like him,” Drew grumbled.
“Well, you are a mutt,” Viv said, chuckling.
“All wolf, sweetheart,” he said, holding onto the beast within him as it tried to push forward to prove a point to their mate, but Drew wasn’t about to let the wolf out. That wouldn’t woo him his mate.
Viv stalked up the back steps and opened the door with her magic. “Okay, this is me,” she said, stepping inside and turning back towards him. “If you’re sticking around, we’ll have to sort you out a kennel,” she said.
Drew raised his hand and pointed his finger at her, just as the door closed in his face once more. “Damn it,” he grumbled.
“That’s never gonna get old,” Viv said, but before she could flick on the locks, he’d opened the door and was blocking the breeze with his huge frame in the doorway.
“Not cool,” he said, berating her.
“I’m a witch, I ooze cool,” she said, placing her hands on her hips and offering him a teasingly wicked challenge with her eyes.
That look made him perk up and pay attention. She was sex on a stick, and her curvy charms were one thing that sent his blood pressure and other things, rising. But that wicked witch look in her eyes was something else. “Trouble.”
“Where? What?” she said, turning to look around her.
“Right in front of me,” he said, bringing her attention back to him.
“Me?” Viv tried for shocked, but she doubted she pulled it off.
“That’s what I’m going to call you…”
“Like a nickname?” she said, teasing him right back.
“A very fitting nickname.”
Viv thought on that for a moment. “Fine, I’ll call you fluff.”
“You can’t call me fluff…”
“Fluff-y?” She tilted her head to one side and offered him a wicked little smile.
Drew tried to hold onto the rumble of a growl that bubbled in his chest, but that was impossible, and she heard it – he could tell by the way she arched her eyebrows, and her gaze snapped down to his chest. “You can’t call a grown man fluffy – hell, you can’t call any male fluffy. Fluffy is a cat…”
“Meow,” she said, flaring her eyes and grinning with amusement. “Fluffy it is then!” she announced, turning on her heels and strolling away.
Drew bit down on a groan as he stepped into the house and closed the door behind him. At least she wasn’t barring him from coming inside anymore, and all talk of a kennel had died.
He guessed he should be thankful for small mercies because he couldn’t really woo her from outside the house. But fluffy…?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
~
Father Wolf couldn’t get comfortable in bed. There was the disturbing development that was playing on his mind concerning one member of the new pack and one of the witches. Of course, it was early days, and the witch in question might just do him a favour and kill her mate before he needed to act, but he didn’t like the odds.
Mates. Fated mates weren’t unheard of in the supernatural world, or the human world, but fated mates in Knowing? What was the church going to make of that?
It had never happened before and broke the general rule of fraternisation between the species. He felt a certain amount of unease about the situation to his very bones. Then he felt another sort of unease that told him he wasn’t alone.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Sebastian said. His voice came from the darkest of the shadows in the room and floated around like a bodiless ghost.
Father Wolf sat up and reached for the lamp. “In my bedroom?” he grumbled, flicking on the lights and ending the vampire’s advantage over him.
“It’s part of the church, Father, and I don’t make the rules,” Sebastian said, pushing that melodic tone for the fun of it, like rubbing salt into an open wound. He pointed to the ceiling. “He does – allegedly. Perhaps you should have words?”
“I’m sure he didn’t envision … you when he welcomed everyone into the church…”
“I thought God was omnipotent…”
“I’m in bed, Sebastian. I do not want to talk theology with a…”
“Abomination,” Sebastian said, grinning widely. “Spoilsport. Fine, let’s talk – mates.”
Father Wolf groaned. “This can wait until…”
“Morning? Hmm, I’m more of a night person,” Sebastian said, grabbing the back of a straight back chair and spinning it from the wall, sitting astride it, he rested his arms against the top of the backrest.
“Define person,” Father Wolf grumbled.
“I thought you didn’t want to get too heavy with the conversation, but my designation is up for grabs…”
“Can you just make your point,” he said, eager for the vampire to be gone.
Sebastian sniffed the air. “Is that … nuns?” He noted the curious look on the priest’s face. He’d lost him and thought he might need to draw him a mental picture. “Have you had a nun in here?”
“No, I have not had a nun in here!” Father Wolf snapped.
“Is it Sister Margaret? A little grumpy for my tastes, but…”
“We all know what you mean by tastes,” he snapped again.
Sebastian tried for shocked, but he could see that the elder priest wasn’t having any of it. “You know, you were much more fun when you were younger.”
“Possibly something to do with putting up with your shenanigan’s for all these years,” he grumbled.
“I’m hurt,” Sebastian said, placing his hand against his chest.
The priest snorted his contempt. “Unfortunately, you heal.”
“Father, where are your Christian values, turn the other cheek? First, do no harm … oh wait, that’s the witches.”
Father Wolf sighed. “Mates?”
“Yep, no fun at all,” Sebastian said, grinning. “Mates, a turn up for the books.” The priest just nodded. “How is the almighty church going to feel about this?”
“I’ll tell you when they make a decision,” he said, and grimaced, knowing he’d said too much.
“Interesting, you haven’t told them yet,” the vampire mused. “And what am I to make of that?”
“That it was late when I got back.” The priest lied, and they both knew it.
Sebastian drew a harsh breath in through his teeth. “Father, isn’t lying a mortal sin?”
“Go away,” he tossed back.
“But, but, but, I thought the house of the Lord welcomed everybody,” he said emphasizing that one word and jumping up and down on the priest’s nerves.
“Everybody but you.”
“Harsh,” Sebastian said, pushing up to his feet and swinging the chair back into place against the wall. “I’ll see myself out.”
“Ugh!” Father Wolf said, rolling his eyes and flopping back against his pillows.
Sebastian poked his head back into the room. “Nighty-night, don’t let the … well, you know what, bite.” He grinned and showed just a little fang.
~
“At least you can cook,” Drew said, taking the empty bowl from her hands and placing it in the sink.
Viv had shared her slow-cooked stew with him. “I know feeding the stray is a bad thing, but you looked so pathetically hungry,” she said, teasing him with her words and her wicked smile. “Now let’s see if you can wash the plates before you leave, and that doesn’t mean licking them clean.”
Drew chuckled. He had a big wolfish grin on his lips and amusement lighting his eyes, and boy was it bewitching. “But I find you get a much nicer finish if you lick them,” he said, playing her game.
“Makes the food stick to the plate a little easier the next time?” she asked, easily falling into the good-natured banter with him.
“Now you’re getting it,” he said, leaning in slightly and making her heart skip a beat.
“Don’t want it,” she said, biting down on a chuckle as she went to turn away. Taking in the view of him was one thing, being bewitched by it was another entirely. And what was with that heart skipping beats thing?
“Too bad, because sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere,” Drew said, wrapping an arm around her waist and yanking her up close and personal.
Viv liked the way her body fitted perfectly against his, and her mind raced with x-rated thoughts of how that might feel, skin on skin, naked. Whoa, talk about hit over the head with the sledgehammer of warm fuzzy feelings and goodness all rolled into one. She tried to banish those thoughts, but they kept popping back up like whack-a-mole.
“Don’t make me get all witchy bad-butt on you and make you feel pain. The likes of which you’ve never felt before,” she whined, trying to distract him, and herself from the other things that she was feeling.
“Hmm, sounds tempting,” he said, teasing her with another wolfish grin that was a grin too far.
Viv zapped him. She used just enough witchy juice to make his muscles contract, and his face twist a little in pain as he gritted his teeth against the hard sting. But she’d boo-booed, and she knew it the moment that his arm tightened around her waist and pressed her closer. So darn close that she could feel his hard length pressed against her stomach.
Well, that did nothing to stop those stupid warm-glowing thoughts popping like balloons full of sexy goodness into her brain. Sex, sex, and more sex – she was on a roll, and she hated that she kind of liked it.
“Well, you did ask,” she said, grimacing and shrugging just the one shoulder as she tried to look anywhere but at him.
“Not really,” he said, biting down on the need to loosen his grip around her in case he hurt her. His muscles were locked up, and he guessed it was only a matter of waiting for her magic to wear off.
Still, he shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. He did have her in his arms, he did have her pressed against his length, and he did have the urge to kiss her – just as soon as he could drop the grimace from his face, he might just follow through on that.
“Then say what you mean and mean what you say. Otherwise, these little incidents might just keep popping up,” she said with a teasing grin. She certainly felt that certain something that had popped up between them and it wasn’t little.
“I’ll try to remember that, but with my man-brain…” he said, still trying to flex his muscles.
“Yeah, sucks to be you,” she said, chuckling.
“Oh, I don’t know, things are looking pretty good right now,” he said, trying to grin away the grimace.
“Glad the pain works for you,” she said, frowning a little. She knew what he meant. He might have had a constipated look on his face, but the real meaning was right there in his eyes. “I, on the other hand…”
“Am a tease?” he said. His eyes flashed with amusement, even though the remnants of the witch’s magic.
“I’m choosy…”
“Fate chose for you,” Drew reminded her.
“Meh, fate made a suggestion…”
“I don’t think it works like that,” he said, telling her what she already knew.
She’d like to stomp all over that truth, but the trouble was, something had been stirring within her from the moment she’d seen that shifter, and that something was on full alert now.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
~
Viv would like to think that she was still within his strong arms because her magic had locked his muscles up and prevented her from moving, but the thing was, she liked that feeling. There were butterflies in her stomach, her mind was preoccupied with noticing the way her curves were fitting against the hard muscles of his body, and she couldn’t have felt more feminine if she’d tried.
“No,” Viv said, looking slightly downcast. “I guess I’m just going to have to kill you,” she said and gave him the brightest, wickedest smile in her arsenal.
Drew was torn between that wicked look in her eyes and his beast’s sudden angst at her words. “With kindness?” he asked, a hungry, wolfish smile pulled his lips back, and she was bewitched by him once more.
Damn, but the man was better than chocolate cake, teasing, tempting until she felt that itch to have some. That old cliché of reasoning came into her mind that applied to both – a little of what you fancy does you good – just a taste can’t hurt, but just like a taste of chocolate cake, she knew that her mate was going to be moreish.
