by E A Price
“Your biggest wish was that you could complete a video game?” asked the liger, slowly.
Although it was a lie, Winston couldn’t help the mental eye roll. Muggles. “Not complete, just get past a difficult level. No one ever finishes the game. It’s ongoing.”
Granger looked like he was going to ask what the point was, but Diaz interrupted. “So, I guess your wish was granted.”
“Looks like.” He tried to smile but gave up and swallowed a few times until his mom came tramping down the stairs.
He wasn’t sure he’d ever been so happy to see her, and actually ran to help her with the overladen tray. And after a few cookies, a glass of cider and twenty minutes of his mom telling them everything her neighbors got up to, they were happy to leave. Winston and his wolf exhaled in relief.
*
Penny wiggled her fingers, flashing her engagement ring, and beaming smugly. It was St. Patrick’s Day and everyone at the bar was having a rollicking good time. The beer was green; everyone was just a little tipsy, and she was celebrating with her fiancé.
Diaz pulled her against his chest, hugging her tightly. It was a sweet gesture but probably had more to do with his desire to cover the slogan on her t-shirt. It said ‘I’m not Irish, kiss me anyway’. She thought it was cute; he thought it was an invitation for drunken buffoons to grope her. He needn’t worry - there was only one drunken buffoon she wanted groping her, and he already had that covered.
They were surrounded by Diaz’s friends, who were ribbing him gently - or not so gently in Isis' case - about getting mated and married. He responded by leering and grabbing Penny’s ass. He was proud she was his mate and wanted to show the world, and that made her happy little penguin dance for joy. Her neck now bore his bite mark from their bond, and she was glad to have it. Admittedly, it still stung like hell, but it was healing.
Her penguin suddenly squawked as she caught a familiar flash of green. She tried to disentangle herself from Diaz’s steely grip. After wrestling for a few moments, she slapped at his chest. “Let go, doofus!”
Diaz harrumphed while his friends didn’t even bother to hide their chuckles.
“Where are you going?” he pouted petulantly.
“I thought I saw Seamus Fitzpatrick over there.”
His eyes narrowed. “Who’s that? An ex-boyfriend?”
“No, dummy, the freaking leprechaun!”
“Oh.” He was relieved for a moment before anger reared its head. “Oh! Where?”
Penny took his hand, and they weaved through the heaving crowd, searching for green. Which wasn’t easy. Everyone was wearing green. Even one of Diaz’s heavily pregnant teammates, Erin, had managed to find a green smock to wear. She looked like a stuffed avocado.
But there was something different about the green the leprechaun wore. It seemed more… green than everyone else’s green.
She found him at the back of the bar, ensconced in a booth with a pretty young woman. Or at least, a woman who would be pretty if she weren’t scowling at Seamus.
“Aha! I knew it was you!” shouted Penny.
Diaz gave him a dubious look. “That’s the leprechaun?”
“They come in all shapes and sizes,” she told him, knowledgeably.
Seamus looked up and grinned. “Ah, I see your wish came true. No need to thank me. Perhaps you could explain to Caitlin here about my wish granting abilities. She doesn’t seem to be very interested.”
“Thank you?!” snarled Diaz, grabbing him by his green collar. “I ought to tear you a new lucky charm hole. Penny got kidnapped because of you. Anything could have fucking happened!”
“Kidnapped?” snapped Caitlin. “And you actually expect me to make a wish, you perv?”
Penny frowned as Seamus squirmed in Diaz’s grip. “I thought you only granted three wishes if you were caught.”
Seamus actually blushed. “Ah, yes…”
“I caught him feeling up my panties on my washing line,” hissed Caitlin.
“How lovely,” murmured Penny.
“I have a problem,” said Seamus, “for which I am receiving treatment.”
“Doesn’t appear to be working,” chuckled Isis, sidling up behind the bunch of them. She had one arm wrapped around her human mate, Raf and was eyeing Seamus with a mixture of amusement and contempt. “Why do you think we arrested him in the first place? He was caught trying to steal a thong from Westcott’s Department Store.”
Seamus sniffed. “I’ll have you know that it’s a real disease.”
“It’s because of pervs like you that I no longer wear underwear,” declared Isis. Raf grinned and waggled his eyebrows as everyone stared at his mate for a couple of beats.
Finally, Diaz remembered what he was doing – trying to strangle the irritating leprechaun. However, Penny was feeling a little merciful.
“C’mon, babe,” she said, patting his arm. “No harm done, and he can’t help being a leprechaun. Although I’m pretty sure, the underwear thing is voluntary.”
Diaz snorted but slowly let go of his collar.
Seamus straightened out his clothes and smirked at Diaz, and then ducked behind Penny when the jaguar’s eyes flashed.
“This was fun catching up,” said the leprechaun. “But I have a matter of business to attend to with Caitlin.” He looked at her and grinned. “I won’t go away until you make your wishes.”
“I’d be wary about what you actually wish for,” said Penny.
Caitlin rolled her eyes. “Great, so what am I supposed to do with him?”
Diaz cracked his knuckles. “A few suggestions come to mind.”
“Wish for a couple of simple things like for him to buy you a drink and then for a big finale you could wish him to be on the other side of the world,” suggested Raf.
“How about on the other side of the world from you at all times?” added his mate. “That way, no matter where you are, he’ll always be a long way away.”
“No, I don’t…” started Seamus looking worried.
Caitlin beamed. “What a good suggestion.”
“Now, hold on! I could end up in the middle of an ocean!”
“Why don’t we start with the drink and then I’ll see how I feel?” said Caitlin, just a little evilly.
Seamus ran off to get her a Cosmo.
Raf and Isis wandered away to enjoy a little alone time. The horny tiger was practically climbing all over him before they even got outside the door.
Diaz kissed the end of Penny’s nose. “Well, all’s well that ends well. You happy, Mrs. Soon-to-be Diaz?”
“Very, Mr. I’m-keeping-my-last-name-Diaz.”
He snickered. “How about another green beer?”
“You read my mind.”
*
Cecile smoothed her hand over Boris’ chest, rubbing her fingers through his soft hair. Yes, this was how a man was supposed to look. Her second husband insisted on waxing his chest, and she never liked how it felt. The idea of Boris waxing anything was laughable. He was of the ilk that believed real men had hair. He was testosterone on legs.
He kissed the top of her head as their bodies finally stopped quivering from the aftershocks of their orgasms. She was pleased that he could be so tender after such vigorous and untamed lovemaking. Her swan agreed – he was a keeper.
At his insisting, she was staying with him while she sorted out her house. Although she suspected at the speed they were moving, they would simply buy a new house together.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go out tonight?” she asked tentatively. “It is St. Patrick’s Day, after all. I know a few of the SEA agents are…”
Boris let out a soft snarl, quieting her. He took hold of her hand, kissing her palm and then placing it on his rapidly growing member.
“Oh, my!” she exclaimed as her swan honked.
“Want you,” he grunted.
“Indeed,” she giggled as he covered her body with his.
*
Wolfman stood on the top of a r
oof, his cape billowing around him. Total hero pose. It had taken him ages to find a building where the door to the roof was actually open. Most of them were locked. But it was worth it.
Wherever there is trouble he will be there. Wherever there is injustice he will be there. Wherever… uh, well, something else along those lines.
He listened as his radio picked up on a robbery in progress. Wolfman grew excited until he realized it was on the other side of town.
“Ooh, that’s quite far away,” he muttered to himself. His wolf concurred.
He really should have borrowed his mom’s Saab. He pulled out his man purse – yes, that was a thing - and counted out his change. He grinned; he had just enough for a cab.
Wolfman ran for the exit. Yep, Wolfman to the rescue.
Crap. Who locked the freaking door?!
The end
Wolfman will return… probably.
Egghunters
“Is it me or did Cutter shrink?”
Jessie looked over to see Lucie the hedgehog shifter entering the SEA building, holding hands with what appeared to be a miniature version of her wolf shifter mate, right down to the glare and the way he seemed to be clutching at Lucie’s hand.
She smiled at Rick. “I believe that’s Cutter’s son, Dean.”
The lion shifter gave a small head shake, flicking out his golden locks with practiced ease – male lions were very vain. “Wow, he’s like a mini me.”
Lucie beamed when she saw them. “Hey guys, let me introduce you to James’ son, Dean.”
Rick’s perfectly shaped eyebrows knit together. “James?”
“Cutter’s first name,” said Jessie out the corner of her mouth.
“Ah.”
“Dean, this is Jessie and Rick. They both work here with me and Daddy.”
The young boy nodded at them. And it was a curt nod at that. He then sniffed. “Squirrel,” he muttered looking at Jessie. He then grimaced slightly and looked at Rick, “Lion.”
Rick flashed him a toothy, almost blinding smile. “Wow, kid, that’s impressive, you’re what? Eight? Nine?”
“Seven,” grumbled Dean.
Lucie was almost jumping up and down with excitement. “Dean is staying with us over the Easter weekend.”
“Mom’s gone to Cancun,” he muttered.
“Which means you get to have a super fun vacation with us.” She squeezed his hand and beamed.
Dean gave her an indulgent smile. Yep, definitely Cutter’s son.
“Once we pry Daddy away from work, we’re going to have a picnic and go to the beach today and tomorrow we’re planning on attending the Easter egg hunt, right, honey?”
“Yes, Lucie.”
He spoke with a sigh, but it was with affection. Apparently both father and son adored the hedgehog shifter and were both at the mercy of her bubbly enthusiasm.
“Oh hey, Cecile, Boris!”
Lucie waved as the swan shifter glided out of the security guard’s office, followed by her huge bear shifter mate. She only blushed a little and the adults in the room guessed at what exactly had been going on in there.
“This is Dean, James’ son.”
Cecile gave him a radiant smile. “Oh, how lovely, I am very pleased to meet you.”
She held out her hand to him and after a few uncertain moments, he shook it with his spare one. Dean then sniffed the air. “Swan and bear.”
“Correct,” laughed Cecile.
“You’re having a baby,” said Dean, guilelessly
Cecile turned bright red and looked at Boris. “How did he…”
“Is it true?” asked Jessie.
The swan shifter looked uncharacteristically flustered. “Well, yes, but it is very, very early days.”
“Oh, Cecile, I’m so happy for you!” bubbled Lucie as Jessie and Rick offered their congratulations.
“Thank you,” stammered Cecile. “At my age, I wasn’t sure… Thank you.”
Boris gave a proud, smug smile and wrapped an arm around his mate.
Rick gave the young boy a critical look. “Are you sure he’s only seven?”
Dean scowled again.
“Definitely Cutter’s son,” murmured Jessie.
*
Judy Carrot smoothed down her skirt and forced her foot to stop tapping on the floor. “Hello, Director. Nice to meet you, Director.” She tried out a few greetings for size. “C’mon, Judy, he’s just one python shifter, he’s not going to swallow you whole.” Although neither she nor her inner bunny were quite convinced of that.
She let out a small eep as the door opened and a tall, handsome man glided through it. Scratch that, a tall, handsome python shifter.
“Sorry, I’m late, Ms. Carrot,” he said smoothly. “I’m Director Sanders. Please call me Gerry.”
He smiled widely, and Judy could almost feel her tail twitching in nervousness. His mouth was not overly big, she told herself. It was just her imagination. He was not going to swallow her whole.
“Not at all, thank you for seeing me.” She held out her mildly sweaty hand and shook his. His handshake was firm and controlling. Hers was like a wet noodle. “Actually, my name is pronounced Ca-rot – to rhyme with garotte. But you can call me Judy,” she added hurriedly as her bunny twittered.
“My apologies, please take a seat.” He seated himself at his desk.
“Thank you.”
She slumped into a chair and blushed as a loud fart noise sounded through the office. The director didn’t seem to notice.
“Now, what can I do for you?”
Judy took a deep breath. “As you know I work for SI – Supernatural Insurers in Playa Lunar. Last month one of our most prominent clients was robbed – Jackson St. Jackson.”
The director leaned forward. He went from mild interest to all out curiosity. “The billionaire wolf shifter?”
“Yes.”
“The toothpaste tyrant?”
“Yes.”
Gerry leaned back in disapproval. “The guy who’s been sued for sexual harassment more times than any other person in recorded history?”
“Yes, but really, that’s not my area.” Although, the memory of him pinching her butt involuntarily jumped to mind. He was eighty-five, but that didn’t slow him down.
“How come this wasn’t in the news? Figured the press would eat up a guy like him being robbed.”
News items on him were popular – mostly because he was pretty universally despised.
“Yes, we went to great lengths to keep it quiet.”
“So why are you telling me?”
Judy pulled out a magazine and showed it to him. It was an article on Jackson’s collection of Fabergé eggs. There was a picture of him with the eggs, looking very regal. Behind him was a pretty young woman, pouting.
“He had seven eggs and a couple of days after this article was published someone stole all of them.”
Gerry scanned the article while Judy forced her feet to remain still. “This happened a month ago?”
“Yes, well, we actually wasted a lot of time because Mr. St. Jackson believed his wife was behind the robbery. We couldn’t find evidence of a break-in, so he insisted it must have been an inside job.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yes, that’s her in the picture.”
“This young lady here?” He tapped the pouting young woman.
“Yes, she’s twenty-two and wife number thirteen.” Judy couldn’t help the moue of distaste. She wasn’t someone who would advocate marrying for money, but she certainly hoped it was a lot of money. The brash old pervert had nothing else going for him.
“Lucky thirteen,” murmured Gerry. “Not that there’s anything wrong with age differences.” His eyes flicked to a photo on his desk. “But maybe sixty-three years is pushing it.”
“Well, whatever their reasons for marrying,” her inner bunny huffed, “clearly things weren’t going well. And we wasted a lot of time before we found out she could not have done it.”
/> “She had an alibi?”
“Yes.”
“A boyfriend.”
“Girlfriend.”
“So they’re getting a divorce?”
Judy coughed. “No. Mr. St. Jackson is apparently thrilled and enjoying both their company now.” She blushed and looked away.
“Wolf shifters,” said Gerry, placidly, as if it explained everything. “She still could have hired someone to steal them.”
“She passed a polygraph. And he keeps a tight leash over her finances – it seems unlikely she was involved. And although we wasted two weeks on her, I believe we may actually have a lead.” She pulled out an arrest photo. “Recognize him?”
“Can’t say I do.”
“He’s a weasel shifter called Moe Womack and known for petty crimes. We think he shifted to his weasel form, having doused himself beforehand in spray to cover his scent, and then he hopped in through an open window and took the eggs one by one.”
“Wasn’t there some kind of alarm system around the eggs?”
“Yes, the wires were chewed apart, completely short-circuiting everything. Which on the face of it looked like a random… ah… chewing by a rat or something. But now I think Moe did it.”
Jackson had been particularly unpleasant about how easily the alarm was overcome. Going so far as to chase the alarm expert around his house. He was certainly energetic for his age. It was no wonder he had managed to catch her when she ran from him. Her bunny shuddered, and Judy tried to tamp down memories of the buttocks incident.
“And what led you to this weasel shifter?”
“By the time forensics really had a good look at the crime scene it was pretty messed up, so we can’t use anything, but they found a partial print.”
“His partial print?”
Judy winced. “No, a partial print of an animal that looked like it could be a weasel. Not definitive, so I started looking for small shifters with records and took it from there.”
Gerry gave her a quizzical look. “That sounds like a long list.”
“It was, but I managed to eliminate a lot of them. And when I got to the weasel he had skipped town.”
“Might be a coincidence.”
“Maybe, but I went through all of his known associates until I got to a man called Mullins – a human. They apparently pulled a job together about ten years ago,” she said, getting excited, warming to her subject. Pleased that all the extra hours of work she’d put in were paying off.
