Ain't Misbehavin'

by M. L. Briers

  “We’re not going home,” Alf growled. “At least, I’m not. How about I open the door and boot your backside out?”

  “More threats, Alpha?” Clark chuckled and stopped the instant that his brother turned to glare at him.

  His mind shot back to the scene in The Shining once more. That manic look served Alf well, but not today, today it would scare the hell out the human female and land them in a whole lot of hot water.

  Trouble wasn’t something you wanted to bring to your door when you were a shifter, and the alpha knew that. But the blogger woman had pinged Alf’s last nerve, and he was going to have to save her from herself.

  He kind of felt sorry for the computer lady. She didn’t have a damn clue what was about to land on her doorstep.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ~

  Clark was determined to make his brother see sense before things went horribly wrong, and they tended to do that fast when dealing with irrational females. He didn’t think they would be lucky enough to be dealing with a shifter woman – no, he’d bet she was human, and he’d stack his cabin on a wager that she wasn’t going to be a pushover.

  It was Sod’s Law. Shifter women could be a right pain in the backside and hard to deal with – but humans – damn, they were in a whole other league of their own.

  “Do I look like I’m threatening you?” Alf gave him his best death glare, and the beta scowled.

  “Nope.”

  “Then don’t make me kick your backside out of this truck, because, trust me; I’m not pulling over, or even slowing down,” Alf growled and noted his brother grimace at the thought.

  “For the record…” Clark said, and Alf gave a long-winded groan of annoyance.

  “I will say I told you so.”

  “Well, if it comes to that – which it won’t – you go right ahead,” Alf growled back.

  “I will.”

  “Good for you.”

  “Thank you…”

  “Welcome.”

  “Love what you’ve done with your hair today…”

  “Stop now.”

  ~

  ~

  ~

  “I mean it, Harper,” Joy grumbled.

  She picked up a cushion and waved it around to try to get rid of the smell of sage that had impregnated the whole house. She’d hidden in her bedroom to get away from it, but now Harper was in there with her smudge stick and her chanting.

  It really was too much. Overkill of the worst kind.

  What were the odds that a mate would just stroll up to her front door and … the sound of a pickup drawing up outside made Joy’s stomach clench. She had to wonder about that whole tempting fate thing.

  “Strange truck,” Harper said as she peered out through the net curtains, and Joy fidgeted a little as she clutched the cushion to her breasts like it was a lifeline.

  “Strange weird, or, strange…?”

  “Strangers,” Harper announced with a frown that drew her forehead smooth, and a snort of contempt. She hated visitors – they were time-consuming – and she liked to be forewarned of people showing up, mainly so she could make her escape.

  “You don’t think…?” Joy stopped and shook her head, trying to dismiss her own thoughts before they left her lips.

  “What?” Harper turned to look at her.

  “Nothing, it’s … nothing.” She cleared her throat and tried to stop the bad feeling that was growing inside of her.

  “Your mate?” Harper teased, and she couldn’t keep the smirk from her lips.

  “What?” Joy waved a dismissive hand and pressed a smile onto her lips. “No – I hadn’t given that another thought.” She blew out a snort.

  “Would it matter if it was? After all, it would mean that you wouldn’t have to go through the whole dating gauntlet.”

  “True,” Joy said, as she nodded her agreement. “But, then there would be the whole other thing…” she waved a dismissive hand once more.

  “Other thing?” Harper asked.

  “Well, mates tended to have one thing in common…” she winced at the thought.

  “What thing?”

  “Fangs…” Joy wasn’t keen on that thought.

  “True, and not to mention the most important thing…”

  “Go on.” Joy scowled.

  “A habit of killing things.”

  “Well … true.” Joy chewed on her inner cheek. Then she tossed the cushion over her shoulder, uncaring if it hit the bed or not, and raced toward the window to join her friend.

  “Oh,” Harper said at first sight of one of the occupants who climbed out of the passenger side.

  “That could so be a shifter…” Joy muttered as she took in the sight of him; six foot odd of pure beefcake with a really healthy dollop of sexy-as-hell on top.

  “That could so be trouble…” Harper muttered, but it was Joy’s heady gasp and the death grip that her friend inflicted on her upper arm as she tried to stem the flow of blood to her hand that had her worried. “What?”

  “That could so be your threats guy.” Joy gasped out again at the sight of the second man that unfolded his large body from the driver’s side.

  “Buy one get one free…”

  “Unlike his handmade boxes.”

  “Nah,” Harper bit out with a shake of her head.

  “Sure?”

  “Well – not now, no.”

  “My advice…?”

  “Not usually, but, go for it.”

  “We should – hide.”

  “Hide?” Harper snorted her contempt for that idea.

  “You know like in those movies and books, where the best friend always comes a cropper first?”

  “Sure…”

  “That’s not happening to me. I’m hiding.”

  “In those movies and books where the best friend gets it – don’t you also have to be a virgin or something?”

  “Shut up, and let’s just hide.”

  “I don’t like that idea. I’m a bad ass witch, and I can take on…” The sound of thumping on the front door silenced her as it echoed through the house, she chewed on that thought.

  “No, please, don’t stop – you were saying?” Joy whispered and watched her friend rush to a grimace.

  “Fine. Hide, but – this was your bad idea.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ~

  “Not here. Let’s go,” Clark announced after a few moments of letting his brother take his annoyance out on the front door with his fist and got a look of disgust in return.

  “Car’s here…”

  “People have feet…”

  “Why are you here again?” Alf demanded, turning towards his brother with a look of impatience and a large dollop of annoyance, all wrapped up with that manic look.

  “To brighten your day.” Clark beamed him a wide grin.

  “Done.” The venom in his tone grated on Clark’s nerves. “So, go home,” Alf growled.

  “And leave you alone with witches – never,” Clark offered back and watched his brother tense up as if he’d just stepped on a landmine. Clark grinned to himself.

  “Witches,” Alf said on a low, almost whisper, of realization as the truth, finally sank in.

  “You didn’t feel it, did you?” Clark chuckled.

  “Of course I did,” Alf snapped back, but in truth, he’d actually missed that one.

  He’d been so wound up, so intent on giving the woman a piece of his mind that he’d been blindsided by his brother’s announcement. Damn, that wasn’t good, he hated witches.

  “Here be magic, watch your backside doesn’t get fried,” Clark warned with another chuckle.

  “I’ll be sure to keep an eye on it,” Alf shot back with a big dollop of sarcasm in his tone. “But, it does explain why this female is targeting our business – devious little witch has a problem with shifters.”

  “Okay, and riddle me this – oh wise one – how was she to know that we were pack?” Clark folded his large arms across his chest, tipped his head
and eyed his brother with skepticism.

  Alf took a moment to consider it. His eyes were practically rolling around in their sockets, his lips were moving as they did when he was reading to himself, and he looked somewhat constipated.

  “Let’s find out,” Alf announced as he turned back to the front door, lifted his large fist, and started to hammer against the door once more.

  Clark rolled his eyes and dropped his arms back to his sides. Then he started away from his brother and around the house towards the back.

  “I’ll go look for signs of life, maybe a way in,” he shot back over his shoulder.

  If he couldn’t convince his brother to drop it and walk away, then he might as well help to end his misery as fast as possible.

  “I got a way in,” Alf said, and a moment later his shoulder hit the wood, and the door flew back on its hinges.

  “Breaking and entering, nice,” Clark growled with a small shake of his head for his brother’s antics. It was certainly never dull when the alpha got a bee in his damn bonnet.

  ~

  ~

  ~

  “That was the front door,” Harper bit out between clenched teeth as annoyance heated her blood. She went to take a step forward, but Joy grabbed a handful of her collar and yanked her back into place.

  “All the more reason to stay put, don’t you think?” she hissed back.

  “But, if they’re shifters…?” Harper grimaced.

  “All the more reason to stay put, don’t you think?” Joy repeated with a little more venom in her voice that time.

  “I don’t think you heard me…”

  “Oh, I heard you. Shifters,” Joy shivered at the thought.

  “Exactly.” She left it there.

  “Shifters,” Joy repeated with a small shrug.

  “Shifters — excellent hearing — great noses for sniffing…”

  “Oh!” Joy finally got it. “That’s not good.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” Harper bit out. Joy opened her mouth. Harper could see the light of sarcasm had filled her friend’s eyes and lifted her hand to silence her. “Do not mess with me.”

  “But, it brings light to the darkness, and we are standing in a broom closet.” Joy grinned at the sour look on her friend’s face.

  “What part of excellent hearing don’t you understand? Be quiet,” Harper hissed back.

  “Is this really where we want to be caught by shifters?” Joy said, after thinking about it for a moment.

  “You said hide,” Harper reminded her.

  “I did.”

  “There you go then,” Harper sighed.

  “Can’t a girl change her mind?”

  “Can’t a girl be silent?”

  “It doesn’t look like it, now does it?” Joy chuckled.

  “I swear — if you bring the shifters to this door…” That was the moment that the door was wrenched open and Harper’s eyes practically rolled back in her head in disbelief.

  “You were saying?” Joy chuckled again. But as she turned her attention to the large, shifty-looking alpha that was doing a great impression of the door itself, things didn’t seem so funny anymore.

  “Well, look what we have here, brother,” Alf growl out at the sight of the cowardly witches.

  “In a broom closet, no less, taking to flight and choosing a broom to match your outfit, perhaps?” Clark chuckled.

  “Gee, you’re just a barrel of fun, aren’t you?” Harper bit out.

  Being on the back foot wasn’t her idea of fun. She should never have listened to Joy and hidden.

  She should never have stayed put when her instinct told her to leave. Joy’s idea again.

  She should have met them head on, and then she would not have felt at a disadvantage. Trapped. Caged in by her own stupidity and against her better judgment.

  “I want a word with one of you,” Alf growled.

  “How do you know?” Harper asked.

  “Know what?” Alf growled back.

  “That you want a word with one of us? Especially, as you don’t seem to know who you want a word with. Maybe you’re in the wrong place,” Harper shot back.

  “At the wrong time…” Joy added, following her friend’s lead.

  “Facing the wrong witch,” Harper said.

  “Is there ever a right witch?” Clark asked.

  “Not where shifters are concerned,” Harper said.

  “I told you they were shifter prejudiced,” Alf growled.

  “Hey! Don’t accuse us of being prejudiced against anyone,” Harper berated him. She offered him a steely gaze as she scowled at the man.

  “Step out of the closet,” Alf growled.

  “I quite like this closet. It’s where I come to meditate,” Joy lied.

  “Back off, Bozo,” Harper warned him.

  Alf did just that. Not because the witch told him to, but because he wanted them out in the open where he could better judge what they might get up to.

  He didn’t trust witches.

  Truth be told, he couldn’t really wring her neck if she was standing in a closet either. Whichever neck was the neck that he was going to wring.

  He didn’t know yet, but one of those women was the one that he’d gone there to find, the one who was trying her damnedest to trash the pack’s business.

  He might not have known which women he was looking for, but he always got his man, or, woman, as the case may be. This time wasn’t going to be any different.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ~

  “Step away – keep going…” Harper shooed him back as she emerged from the closet in front of Joy, who had a death grip on her sweater, pulling the neck back against her throat, and any tighter, and she wasn’t going to be able to breathe.

  “Any further and I’d be out the back door…” Alf growled.

  “I like the picture that you’re painting, go ahead,” she tipped her chin down and offered him a mocking look, “and do let the door hit your butt on the way out.”

  “Listen, lady,” he snorted at that word, “lady, ha!”

  Harper yanked her head back on her neck like he’d reached out and smacked her. If she could have growled, she would have. As it was there was a low rumble of something in her throat, but he put that down to her words getting caught.

  The look in her eyes said she’d like to zap him from hell to high water and back again. Alf had the feeling that if she put just a little bit of magic behind those death glares, then he would have been toast.

  There was no saying that she wouldn’t still do it. But there wasn’t a whole heap of anything he could do about that but roll with the punches.

  “Nice to see you’re so quiet,” Alf said, but he didn’t trust it would last, she looked momentarily stunned. “Now who’s the woman I’ve been speaking to on the phone, and which one of you is the blogger?”

  He growled that very last word, and it was music to Joy’s ears. She let out a blast of breath that she’d been holding like it was a spitball against Harper’s neck.

  “Hey!” Harper jumped in place and reached for her neck, just as she tried to sidestep her friend, not remembering that she had a stranglehold on her sweater.

  There was a quick burst of a gargled sound as Harper twisted her body, yanked back at the same time by Joy jumping in place, but not letting go, and Harper found herself falling.

  Death by strangulation wasn’t the way that Harper imagined herself dying. Her self-preservation instinct kicked in, and she unleashed her magic on her friend.

  Joy yelped and let go of her friend’s sweater, but it was too late for Harper to save herself from falling. She was going down.

  Alf covered the distance to get to the witch in record time. If he’d thought about it any, then he would just have grabbed the popcorn and watched her hit her pride.

  But a damsel in distress was still like a red rag to a damn obstinate bull where his DNA was concerned, and he tossed out one, big, thick, muscled arm around her body, and scoo
ped her up against his chest.

  Oh, stupid, stupid him. As he found out to his cost, she wasn’t done zapping, and she got him a good one just as her hands collided with the hard ridges of his muscled chest.

  Damn, but she might as well have hit him with those paddles that they zap you with in the hospital to get your heart going. If anything; it might have been kinder.

  Alf let out the kind of yelp usually only heard from females and pubescent pups. His eyes went wide, but Clark couldn’t decide through his tears of laughter if the look on his brother’s face was closer to looking like he’d had one too many cosmetic procedures, or the kind an astronaut gets when they’re shot into space in a rocket.

  He wasn’t sure either, why his brother’s hair was standing on end, but he was never one to listen in science class.

  “Stop…!” Alf managed to get that one word out through his clenched teeth before his tongue felt as if someone was trying to wrench it back down his throat.

  “Let go of me!” Harper bit out.

  She was sure the man’s hold was getting tighter by the second, and she didn’t much care for the idea of having her uterus squeezed out of her body like she was a tube of toothpaste.

  “He can’t while you’re zapping him,” Joy announced with gleeful chuckles, but it did slap Harper upside the head, and she jolted to awareness and yanked her magic back.

  Alf gasped for a breath and then exploded it right out again into the witch’s face. She turned up her nose at his breath, but he didn’t give a damn, he did it again, and again, and again until the pain was bearable.

  “One word,” Harper snapped out as she reached up and held her index finger practically again his nose. “Mouthwash.”

  Clark keeled over with laughter. He had to brace his hands against his knees to hold his body up because he really couldn’t breathe.

  Then he made a sound like a miffed off mule as he drew in a large breath, wrenched up to his full height, tossed his head back on his neck and let a roar of laughter escape him.

  He did that several times more, before the sound of the alpha’s warning growl registered within his psyche and he tried his damndest to bite down on his chuckles. Hell, he even folded his arms in a comforting cuddle around his sore ribs and slapped a hand over his mouth, but to no avail.