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Hate, Date, or Mate? (Supernatural Dating Agency Book 3)

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by Andie M. Long




  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

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  Also by Andie M. Long

  About Andie

  HATE, DATE, OR MATE?

  Supernatural Dating Agency Book Three

  Andie M. Long

  COPYRIGHT

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Copyright (c) 2018 by Andrea Long

  All rights reserved.

  Cover by J.C. Clarke. Photo from Adobe Stock.

  DEDICATION

  To my tribe.

  You’re weirder than the people I make up, and I love it!

  Never change and thank you for everything xo

  Chapter One

  Kim

  What was the wolf equivalent of the doghouse? Because I was in it.

  My misdemeanors? Well, let’s see…

  Dating a wolf from an enemy pack - check.

  Losing five werewolf shifter clients in one evening - check.

  Pissing off your newly pregnant, mega hormonal boss - check, check, check.

  I was sitting in Shelley’s office right now while she glared at me. It was most off-putting. I couldn’t even bribe her with a coffee and a chocolate doughnut because she’d started drinking blood, which she was decanting into a tomato juice bottle to fool other clients.

  Shelley’s arms were folded across her chest. “You have until the end of the week to get me five new clients.”

  I sighed.

  “You lost us Darius, Sierra, and Jett. Plus two more of Darius’ pack quit.”

  I pouted. “Sierra doesn’t count. Darius only got her to join to make me jealous.”

  “She was still paying her fees.”

  I held a hand to my breastbone. “Can you stop thinking about your business for a moment? I’m in deep shit, Shel. Ebony says I’m going to cause a pack war. A. Pack. War. Also, I have to date Darius because of my binding deal with Lucy. How do I do that when he won’t speak to me? Huh?” I shook out my right arm. "This stupid appendage keeps feeling like it’s having its own menopause and Lucy says it will continue to feel occasionally like it’s burning until he goes out with me. Jett won’t answer my calls either. I need understanding, not more pressure. I don’t deal with stress well.”

  Shelley snorted. She actually snorted at me. “If you don’t have clients, you don’t have a job do you? Now that’s stress.”

  “Gaaahhhh.”

  “Oh for goodness’ sake. You have five minutes to moan on, during which time I’ll be your best friend. Then I’m back to being a boss and you have to bring in five more clients to replace the income you’ve lost.”

  “Supernatural ones?”

  “Ideally, but I’ll accept any at this time.”

  “Okay.” I lowered my chin to my chest. God, I have a great rack.

  Shelley looked at her clock. “Five minutes starting from now.”

  Fuck, I’d better get it all out quickly, like when you’re trying to name everything you remembered on The Generation Game. “It’s not fair, Shelley. I found the sexiest red chemise with a hooded robe. I was gonna go all Red Riding Hood on his arse.”

  “Whose? Jett’s?”

  “No! Are you even listening? I dated Jett to make Darius jealous.”

  “Um, you’ve been telling us all you didn’t want to date Darius.”

  I slapped myself in the forehead. “So, I lied, okay? I’ve been having a crisis. I don’t do relationships, and Ebony said I was destined for him. That’s a relationship, right? Like a bloody long one. So I panicked. How come if a normal person panics they just might need to buy a bunch of flowers and say sorry, but I start a pack war? A Pack. War.”

  “So, what exactly is a pack war? It doesn’t sound good in any case. Anything with the word war in it is a little worrying.”

  “You think? I don’t know but I’ve started one. What if they all die? What if Darius now dies? Or Jett?” My traitorous mind imagines Sierra Forrester lying bloodied on the ground. That’s just so bitchy, Kim, and an evil thought too far. Why am I smiling? Stop it.

  “So what’s the plan then? Just sit back and see what happens? I’m sure if there was any immediate danger to Withernsea I’d have been alerted.”

  A sip of my coffee was required. God, that was lush. “I’ve asked Frankie if he can send me a history of the shifters. Of both the packs, both here and at Hogsthorpe, and a potted history of shifters in general. The more information I have at my fingertips, the more I’ll know what to do next.”

  “Well, I don’t see that there is anything else you can do right now. Just keep trying to phone Darius to apologise and wait until your reading material comes through. And in the meantime, stay out of trouble and get me those clients.”

  I blew a huge breath out making a puh noise and then sat up straighter and crossed my legs. “How are you anyway? Are you adjusting to life as an expectant mama?”

  Shelley nodded. “To be honest, I wouldn’t know I was pregnant if it wasn’t for the O-neg I’ve started drinking. I have five months to go according to having a vampire baby, maybe even eight if it ends up being like a regular human/wyvern/witch baby. I’m quite chill about it all.”

  “Like a regular human/wyvern/witch? Have you heard yourself? Will it come out with fangs? Scales? A broomstick? What about red eyes? Are you having a home birth because how do you explain its potential peculiarities in the labour ward?”

  A serious amount of eye rolling occurred. “It will come out like a regular baby: without teeth and with blue eyes. And there’s Dr Fielding at the hospital, along with a whole host of other medical staff who know full well that Withernsea is full of supernaturals. Mine isn’t the first supe baby to be born here.”

  “I still can’t get over that. Even though we run a dating agency for them, so many people here are like the undead, or have real life talons. Must be a twat having a manicure if you’re a bird shifter.”

  Shelley ran her hands through her hair. “Can you go to your office now? Time’s up and you’re wearing me out.”

  “Thanks a bunch.”

  As I stood up to leave, the door banged open and Lucy walked in clutching two coffees. She passed one to me, sat opposite Shelley, and put the other one in front of her on Shelley’s desk.

  “What’s happening, dudes?”

  “We are not dudes.” I protested. “I hate people use that word
for everyone. Makes me think I’ve grown a penis, and I didn’t realise.”

  Lucy tilted her head towards me, then looked back at Shelley. “What’s got into her today, or rather not got?” She cackled.

  “Oh just because you’re loved up.” I did a mock vomiting impression. “Anyway, how come you’re up at this time? Shouldn’t you still be at it with loverboy?” Lucy was dating my ex, Frankie.

  “He’s sleeping. Vampire, remember?” She rolled her eyes. Why was everyone rolling their eyes at me today? “But for your information, I’m up keeping an eye on a client. The quicker I get my earth angel duties done, the quicker I can become an angelic housewife and just stay at home serving my man.”

  We both gawped at her.

  “Oh my God, you didn’t seriously believe that bollocks did you?” She guffawed.

  “Are you supposed to blaspheme and swear when you’re a helper of the angelic realm?” I creased my brows at her.

  She wafted her hands as if wafting my words away. “I can’t help blaspheming. After not being able to hear those words for twenty-odd years, I can’t stop saying them all. Holy moly, oh my God, oh my fucking God, Christ almighty. It’s so refreshing. Anyway, Angel Sophia told me that as long as I wasn’t actually harming anyone I was fine.”

  “I’m not sure that’s what she meant, Luce. I think she was referring to that one specific occurrence of a rude word you did right in front of her.”

  “Po-tay-to, po-tar-to,”

  I stared at her, my hands on my hips. “Why was I expecting you to be all lovely now you are no longer a demon?”

  “I’m a beginner earth angel; I don’t think we’re quite ready to move to the miracles stage yet.”

  “So who’s this client then?”

  She smiled brightly and rose an inch up off the floor, just hovered there and didn’t even notice. “He’s called Seth, and he’s a new assistant in Jax’s coffee shop, so I shall bring you regular coffees while I do my job.”

  “And what do you have to save him from?”

  Lucy pulled a dramatic face. “Oh I’m not allowed to tell you that. It’s a celestial secret. I can tell you one thing though. That man is hot. H.O.T. hot.”

  “How else would you spell it?”

  “Kim! Your grumpiness and rudeness is out of order today. Go to your office, right now.” Shelley glared at me again, and pointed at the door.

  “Huh.” I stomped out, taking my coffee with me.

  It was seriously like I’d been sent to the naughty corner. I powered up my laptop. No new clients had applied. FFS. If we’d had five—or even better, more than five—new applications for membership, I could have got away with having to find any. I moved onto my own emails. I’d start work in half an hour when my coffees had had a chance to kick in.

  There was an email from Frankie.

  From: Frankielove@yahoo.com

  To: Kim@withernseadating.com

  Date: Wed 25 Jan 2018 Time: 10:02 am

  Subject: General shifter information

  Hey Kim.

  While I dig a little deeper into the specifics, here are some factoids about the shifters in general. Document attached.

  From your mate (get it? Lol)

  Frankie

  I clicked on the attachment and opened the document, saving it to a brand new folder I named ‘get self out of the shit’. Then I sat back and read it.

  GENERAL WOLF SHIFTER INFORMATION

  (Not to be reproduced. Copyright F. Love, 2018)

  Werewolf (werwulf, man-wolf, lycanthrope)

  The ability to shift into a wolf from human form.

  The rumour that you can become a werewolf from a scratch is untrue folklore. In reality you have to either be born a were, or in the instance of a mate, bitten during the mating ritual under a full moon.

  Weres are vulnerable to silver and can be killed by being shot by a silver bullet to the heart.

  Weres can shift at any night through choice, but on the night of a full moon will always change. This is when mating rituals occur. It is not true that wolves rampage at this time with a lack of control over their animal selves.

  Mates primarily come through the pack; however due to a lack of female offspring (8 out of 10 were births result in male children), mates are often selected from out of the pack. Weres mate for life.

  A male werewolf is expected to take a mate no later than at the age of thirty years and can be ostracised from the pack if still single by then.

  I clicked into Darius’ profile. He’d recently had his 29th birthday. That was a plus for me. I could just wait it out until he got desperate. Although what if he was already desperate and so mated with Sierra? Yes they were friends, but we all knew it was nigh on impossible for males and females to really be friends. Did that mean he might have shagged her before?

  He will have slept with people Kim. You’re no saint yourself, remember?

  I rang his mobile phone. Once again it went to his answering service.

  “I’m not able to take your call right now and if you are Kim, quit ringing. I told you we’re done.”

  Rude.

  We’re done. Were done. Hahahahaha. He’d said a joke without realising.

  Not to be thwarted from my current mission, I sent a text.

  Kim: I really am very, very, sorry. BTW your voicemail is rude and unnecessary.

  My phone soon beeped with an incoming message alert.

  Darius: Stop texting.

  Kim: I will if you’ll meet me to talk.

  Darius: I have nothing further to say to you. You brought shame on me.

  Kim: Give me a chance to make amends, pleeeaaassseee. Pretty please with cherries on top?

  This message failed to send <>

  Had he blocked me?

  My bloody arm set off with another hot flush. “Ah, Hell, it’s not my fault he won’t date me.” I yelled in the direction of the floor. Then I realised it was my fault, so I sat and sulked for a minute.

  Then I tried to ring Jett.

  “I’m not able to take your call right...”

  “For crying out LOUD.” I ended the call and threw my phone on the desk in temper. Thank God it had a protective case. Well, there was nothing else to do, so I should just get on with my work, which included finding five new customers. I stood up, grabbing my jacket and handbag. I’d go to Jax’s coffee shop. Not only could I look for potential new clients and get some lovely coffee but I could have a nosy at this sex god, Seth. It would take my mind off other things.

  Whoa!

  The queue to the front of the coffee shop counter extended out of the main door. No way was I waiting in that. Jax was my friend. I passed a load of women in the queue and then as I got halfway I stopped—stunned.

  In front of me was a blonde haired guy in jeans and a white tee wearing a barista apron that said ‘Jax’s’ on it. What played in my head was a fantasy movie-reel of him in a shower, the spray bouncing off a hard ripped man chest, while he bit his lip and looked at me with a lusty wink.

  “Kim!” Jax shouted. “Come meet the new guy, Seth. He’s proving a hit. We’ve never been so busy.”

  Much to the consternation of the rest of the queue, I stalked right to the front making sure my skinny-jeaned ass sashayed as I did so. I held out a hand. “Hey, Seth. I’m Kim. I work at Withernsea dating just upstairs and along.”

  He gripped my hand. Hmmm, firm handshake, smooth warm skin. Clean fingernails. All good signs.

  “So what can I get you? I guess as a regular I’d better make sure to remember your order.”

  A bed and your cock please.

  “A latte and a chocolate doughnut please.”

  Down, girl.

  “Coming right up.” He beamed a huge smile at me. Oh God he had cheek dimples. I was going to be a puddle on the floor in a minute.

  When he served me my coffee, I leaned closer. “So, Seth. Sorry to be so direct with this but I’m looking at this queue. Do you have a girlfriend?”
r />   “No. I got divorced recently. My ex cheated on me.” He shrugged.

  “Do you fancy joining the books?” I asked him. “Say, one month's free trial?”

  “Sure, why not? Drop me a form in.” He said.

  I went into my purse where I always carried a few copies. “Can you get it back to me by five?”

  “Okay.” He served me my order and a side of another beaming smile.

  As I walked back up the queue, I stopped to talk to the other women waiting. “Hey, I’m Kim from Withernsea dating. We just signed Seth onto our books and we have several other men just like him if any of you are interested in signing up.”

  I walked out with twelve new applications and some of them had ticked the ‘extra supelemental information’ box (it looked like a typo to humans but actually wasn’t) the dating agencies code for supes. I’d eaten my doughnut and drunk my coffee while women filled out the application, so I walked back to the office and knocked on Shelley’s door.

  “Come in.”

  Her face flashed with annoyance as I walked towards her.

  “Where have you been? You’d think given our conversation this morning that you might have actually stayed at your desk and worked.”

  I placed the application forms on the table. “Twelve new customers, and a ‘lucky’ thirteenth shall be here and on your desk by five-thirty.” I high-fived myself. “You were saying?”

  Shelley grinned. “I was saying what an asset to my company you are, Kim. Thank you. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

  I felt good, so I sashayed out of Shelley’s office too.

  Now there was just those pesky wolves to deal with.

  Chapter Two

  Darius

  “How long are you going to be wearing that face?” My younger sister Alyssa asked.

  “I’m not wearing a ‘face’.” I protested.

  She tilted her head to one side. “You look like someone tea-bagged you with a sweaty bollock.”

 

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