by T J Nichols
Maybe Jude would make a good mate even though he wasn’t the kind of man Mack had thought he’d settle down with. He should give the witch a chance. And then what? Jude would leave, head back to Seattle like he already planned, and expect Mack to follow and obey. Instead of giving Jude a chance, they needed to sever the bond.
Chapter Six
Jude logged in to the Coven database on his laptop. He wouldn’t research anything to do with familiars, no matter how badly he wanted to. The last thing he wanted was the Coven making an appearance and sorting the creature out before he could. And now Mack had agreed to help, there was a narrow chance they could pull this off in the required time and get to keep his magic.
He still wasn’t sure about the familiar part, and Mack wasn’t keen on it either. Jude tried to ignore how his pride smarted at the way Mack wanted him gone as soon as this business was done. He didn’t want a witch in his life. Mack didn’t want to even give whatever this was a chance, give him a chance. Jude should be used to that by now. Everyone wrote him off, even his mother, and he hadn’t even been a week old.
While the creature listing on the database was fairly solid, there was nothing about the previous troubles in North. He’d checked that out before coming here. Searching for creatures that ate cows or sliced them up gave him a rather large list to go through. Then there were the creatures that had more than one name because they existed in more than one country. He’d be here for days.
What he needed to do was search for the thing, but he wasn’t ready to ask Mack for help to track it. Not after last night. Mack had rejected him, but he’d been the one to storm out. They needed to be talking to work together—unless Mack had changed his mind overnight and no longer wanted to help, which was entirely possible.
There were witches who’d love to be in his shoes, so close to having a familiar. And he, who could barely control his magic, had been granted a familiar by the Fates. He prayed that those ladies knew what they were doing. He flagged over a dozen things that the creature could be, then shut the site before he was tempted to look up familiars.
It was after ten, and he needed a coffee—or two. Then he didn’t know what he would do. There was no point in returning to the historical society until Helen was back. How long could he stall the Coven for? At least they’d know he was doing something, given that he’d searched their database.
He pulled on his boots and gave them another once-over. He’d cleaned them again last night, so he’d had something to do instead of thinking about Mack. Maybe he was the only one feeling the desire to develop the bond sluicing through his veins like the finest rum.
With luck, the familiar bond would be one of those things that would fade if left incomplete. But luck had never been on his side before, though, and he wasn’t about to put his faith in it now. At some point he’d have to find out how to break the bond, if that was what Mack wanted. He wouldn’t be one of those witches who bound an unwilling shifter just to accentuate his magic—that would only bite him on the ass. He didn’t need to be more powerful. He needed a way to use his magic safely.
The Coven’s offer for him to be an investigator was that way. But he couldn’t imagine himself sliding into bureaucracy. He’d never thought he’d go traipsing through fields to look at paw prints and dead cows either.
The main road was clogged with tractors and farm equipment. Banners hung off the sides, asking the government to stop the fracking. The town hall seemed to be the center of the storm, so he avoided it, taking the long way to the coffee shop. He ordered his caramel latte, but when asked if it was dine in or takeaway, he hesitated.
The talk in the shop was all about the protest and the polluted water. No one mentioned the creature. Maybe it was full of yesterday’s kill and would wait a few days. He should work out if there was a schedule to the kills or if they were random.
“Takeaway,” he said finally. Mack’s shop was just around the corner. He glanced at the cakes. Mack didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would accept chocolate cake or lemon tart as a peace offering, but he needed to take him something and he didn’t know how Mack took his coffee. He didn’t know anything about him. “And a piece of each cake.”
Maybe he should buy Mack a six-pack of beer instead.
If he hadn’t walked out, he could’ve learned more. They didn’t have to be anything more than working partners. For that to happen they had to be on speaking terms. He needed stop thinking about what could’ve been and concentrate on keeping his magic.
Since Mack had invited him out for a burger, it was only fair he brought dessert to try to put things right. If they couldn’t be friends, there was no way they would ever work as mates. But it was too easy to imagine waking up next to Mack. He may have done more than imagine that this morning in the shower.
With his coffee and the cakes in a bag, he made his way away from the protesting farmers and round to Mack’s shop. The door chimed as he went in. No one was at the counter, so he put down the food and rang the silver bell.
“I’m coming.” Mack’s voice carried from out the back.
It was reassuring to hear the growl in his voice was for everyone, not just Jude.
Mack stopped in the doorway. He had a rag in his hands and was wiping the grease off his skin. “Couldn’t stay away?”
For half a second, Jude wished he had stayed away as the smug grin on Mack’s face wasn’t what he wanted to see.
“I brought dessert. I’m sorry for walking out last night.” He pushed the bag toward Mack. “You can pick first.”
Mack put down the rag and peeked inside the paper bag. “Nice choices. But I don’t think you’re here to deliver my morning tea or make up for last night. I did a little research on familiars.”
Jude groaned. “Tell me it wasn’t on the Coven database.”
“Of course it was. Where else am I going to look that shit up?”
“Given that I’m the only witch here, they’ll know it was because of me.”
Mack stared at him. “You make that sound like a bad thing.”
It was, but he didn’t want Mack to know he was on a very short probationary leash. “I’m here to sort out the creature, not get a familiar or date the town mechanic. They’ll think I’m messing around.”
Mack crossed his arms. “You were. You were giving me the look in the bar.”
That was also true. “I planned on giving myself the night off…” He really didn’t want to go through thinking Mack was the creature again. If Mack had done the research, he wanted to know about familiars. “What did you find out?”
“That we’re fucked. If one of us dies, the other will waste away, and the bond can only be undone by the Coven.” Mack didn’t appear impressed by either piece of news.
Jude had known that there were limitations to the bond, but he hadn’t expected their lives to be so intimately entwined. He didn’t like the idea of pining for a man he hadn’t even had. That seemed like a total waste. He didn’t like the idea of dying either. He sipped his cooling coffee. “The Coven being able to break the bond is a good thing, right? That’s what you want?”
“I don’t want the Coven sticking their noses into my life, but yeah.” Mack’s voice was typically gruff, but he didn’t sound certain.
Hope sparked, but Jude kept his face neutral. He needed help, and there was no help better than a familiar. While he completely agreed with Mack’s feelings about the Coven, he chose not to agree too vehemently. “Good, then we are agreed. Once this is over, the Coven can separate us.”
Saying it out loud didn’t make it seem like a good idea. The Fates had put them together for a reason, and that wasn’t the kind of gift one handed back without consequence.
“Yeah.” Mack nodded and forced a smile that was more a grimace. “Did you want to come out the back while I work, or do you have other plans?”
“No plans.” That Mack was inviting him out the back was so much better than being tossed out. They were back to working together. And
maybe more. “I can tell you what I found out about the creature.”
“You researched that, not familiars?”
“That is why I’m here.” Jude picked up the cakes and followed Mack out the back.
The workshop smelled of oil and kerosene with the faintest hint of sweat. There was a car off the floor with its guts on the cement. It all looked like junk to him, but to Mack it obviously made sense.
“Don’t touch anything.” Mack put his rag on the workbench near a metal drink bottle that had seen better days. The black paint was chipped and grazed, and the bottle had more dents than Jude’s first car.
“Wasn’t going to.” There were too many things to accidentally touch. He leaned cautiously against the workbench. When Mack didn’t tell him to move, he relaxed a little and put the cakes on the piece of the bench that was cleanish.
“No electricity either.”
“No magic at all.” He held up his hands as if surrendering. It was too easy to do what Mack told him when it should be the other way around. The witch was supposed to be in control.
Mack nodded and drew the piece of chocolate cake toward him. “So what did you find out?”
Jude watched as Mack pulled a knife out of a chipped cup—that was holding other pieces of cutlery—and cut the cake in half. Then he repeated the process for the lemon tart. Jude hadn’t expected the knife or the careful division. What other surprises did Mack have?
“I think the creature is some kind of shifter,” Jude said carefully.
Mack gave him a glare that cut through to the marrow. Mack was definitely someone he wanted on his side, not working against him.
“Not a human shifter, the other kind.” The other kinds were the ones that nightmares were made of. They were flesh and blood, but not really animal. They were the darkness and the demons of myth and legend, but they were very real and very dangerous. “That’s the only way the changing paw prints can be explained. The upside is it’s not some kind of wyrm or wraith.”
Wraiths could suck out life, like ghosts, but didn’t drink blood. Their kills were far less messy. Wyrms were large burrowing creatures, and if one of them was doing the killing, there’d be no cow left to examine. He really wished he hadn’t read the details on some of the creatures because he’d be getting nightmares for months.
“I will take your word for it.” Mack picked up a half slice of chocolate cake. “A rogue shifter would have been easier.”
Which is what Jude had first thought and hoped for, but he didn’t add that. He just nodded. He ate his piece of cake in silence, too aware of the shifter only two feet from him. The light caught Mack’s eyes, and they reflected green for a second, betraying what he was to any witch or other paranormal being. Mack ate delicately and licked his fingers. Jude wanted to lick them for him. He glanced away, not sure if the rising heat in his body was because of the small workshop, the familiar bond, or the simple reason that Mack was a good-looking guy and Jude already knew what his lips felt like.
“I’m sorry for thinking it was you.” Jude could think of one hundred ways to make it up to him. He tried to rein in his imagination and failed. He had never been so twisted up with lust before.
“I can see why you’d think it was me. Bears do have a reputation for destruction,” Mack said softly, as though that was now forgiven. He watched Jude carefully. “This bond…”
“Yeah?” Did he sound too hopeful?
“It’s better for you than me.”
Jude swallowed and nodded. “I know the history.”
Some witches had abused the privilege, and shifters had grown wary and distrustful.
Mack poked at the lemon tart. “This is a partnership or it’s nothing. I will not blindly obey.”
“That’s fine…probably for the best.”
“You say that now, but you might change your mind and compel me.”
“I won’t.” But it was just words. And Mack already didn’t trust him that much. “I swear by the Fates I will not compel you.” He shivered as the words left his lips. He hated swearing by the Fates. He was never sure if they were listening and would follow through with some kind of retribution for breaking his word.
Mack studied him; his gaze unflinching. “We will catch the creature, and then I’ll petition the Coven for my freedom, as required for them to break the bond. I’ll tell them the truth, that it was an accident, so you won’t get into trouble.”
“I won’t argue to keep you.” That was the wrong thing to say.
Mack’s eyebrows lowered. “I’m not yours to keep.”
“I know. It’s a good plan. Work together, then get the Coven to fix this. But in the meantime?” Jude said a little too hopefully.
Mack drew in a breath. “You honestly weren’t faking attraction in the bar? I wasn’t sure last night. I don’t know if it’s the magic in the bond anymore or if it’s real.”
“It could be both.” He’d thought Mack had lost interest, but every so often there’d be a half smile or a look that made Jude wonder. Now he knew. “Does it matter for the moment when we plan for the Coven to break the bond?”
As much as he didn’t like the way Mack was so keen to end the bond, it was for the best. He’d never wanted a familiar or the responsibility that came with that. Even now they were linked, though not as solidly as they would be as they got closer. Sex would bind them tightly, as would working together. Even now if one were to die the other would pine away. Their magics would alter as the bond thickened. He had no idea how his magic would change, or how Mack’s abilities would be strengthened. But some changes would only happen as the bond developed with time and use. The bond wouldn’t get a chance to develop, though. They’d catch this creature then part ways.
That should be all he wanted.
Mack took a step closer. “I’m sorry for punching you.”
“I’m glad you did.” He meant that. Mack had saved him from making a terrible error. He closed the distance and hesitated for only a moment before brushing his lips over Mack’s. He rocked back to assess Mack’s reaction, not sure if he’d gone too far, too soon, but unable to resist any longer. The magic of the bond shimmered in his blood, and his heart beat faster, and lust tugged much lower. Beneath that immediate draw was the spark of attraction he’d felt when he’d first seen Mack.
Maybe the bond needed that spark to even work. Why else would two people kiss?
Mack’s tongue traced his lower lip, then he used Jude’s shirt to pull him close and kissed him again. Hot and hard the way Jude had wanted the night they’d met.
The static was on Mack’s tongue the moment Jude’s lips parted. It spread fast, sliding through his blood and over his skin. This time he knew it wasn’t a spell, or at least wasn’t one Jude did consciously. It was a taste of the witch’s magic and the shimmer of the familiar bond.
While he didn’t like the bond or what it meant, he liked Jude.
He shouldn’t.
Witches had a history of trapping shifters and binding them as familiars—it was old history, and the practice had been stopped two centuries ago—and he fully intended to ask for his freedom. He didn’t want to think what would happen if it wasn’t granted.
Right now, he didn’t want to think at all. For the moment there was nothing he or Jude could do about the bond. He could handle being tied to the witch, metaphorically, for a few days or even a week.
Mates. He didn’t even believe in fate.
But of all the witches in the world it was his mate who had come to Mercy. That had to be some kind of magic.
Now he had a chance to have what had been offered the first night they’d met. From the way Jude pressed against him, it seemed that Jude wanted the same thing. Maybe some of the lust was the bond, but did it matter? There’d been something before they’d kissed, and the bond had formed. Jude hadn’t been faking in the bar. Mack held on to that thought.
He slid his hand over Jude’s hip to cup his ass. Jude responded by moving closer. His lips were sweet
from the coffee and cake, like caramel and chocolate with a touch of magic and danger.
He was not going to dream about the taste. He wasn’t that person. He didn’t lust over people, and he didn’t hunger for more. He was practical and got what he needed and wanted and moved on. Always keeping the secret about what he was. That secret wasn’t between him and his lover for the first time in his life. He’d dreamed of Jude last night and regretted not going after him. That was just the bond. He’d keep telling himself that until he believed it.
Jude’s hand brushed Mack’s inner thigh, then higher. Lust tightened and twisted. His nail ran up the metal fly to the button.
Mack drew back and sucked in a breath. “Not here.”
Anyone could walk into the shop, and while they couldn’t be seen, it just wasn’t right.
Jude lifted one eyebrow and flicked open the button on Mack’s jeans. “Why not? You invited me out the back.”
He had, but not for this. God, he wanted this. He wanted Jude on his knees… The image was too clear in his head, and for a moment he thought that maybe that was what Jude wanted. He’d read about the bond, but he refused to believe some of the things he’d read. He certainly didn’t want Jude in his head seeing what he was thinking.
Or feeling.
He didn’t want to be in Jude’s head either. Another good reason to end this as soon as possible. A good reason to make the most of it while it lasted. How many times did he get to be with someone who knew what he was?
This would be a first.
Jude’s tongue darted between his lips, and he glanced down. He gave the elastic on Mack’s jocks a tug, revealing the rosy head. “We could pick up where we left off.”
Mack’s pulse was fast as lust fueled his heart. “Yeah? What exactly were you going to do, assuming I was just your average pickup?” He didn’t have an average pickup. Not in Mercy anyway. Sometimes he made the hour drive to the city for a weekend. Then he made the most of it.
