by M. L. Briers
He really hated that witch.
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Mine…
Kent rushed around the display stand that, in his haste to follow that scent, he’d almost steamrollered right over the top of the stupid thing. He’d found himself in the woman’s department, not somewhere he wanted to be right then, and was getting some very strange looks from the sales staff and customers to boot.
He supposed that if he wasn’t rushing around as if his tail was on fire, chasing that scent, then the women might have assumed he was there shopping for his girlfriend or wife. Not that he’d ever have a wife — he’d have a damn mate though — and that was the scent he was chasing.
Kent knew that his brothers would have a field day with this one. Alf and Clark would have no end of sarcastic remarks to throw at him if they ever found out — if, they ever found out, that was dumb, it wasn’t as if you could hide a mate for the rest of his life.
Right then and there that wasn’t important. Finding his mate was important.
Once he’d found his woman and wooed her – then he would have to worry about someone telling his brothers that he was in the middle of — the lingerie department while stalking her.
Perfect. Just what he didn’t need.
His body was already tensed, hard in places that he didn’t need it to be while racing around a woman’s department. That was just the cherry on top of the bloody cake that he had a bulge in his pants.
Kent noted and sidestepped the female assistant that was headed straight for him. Yes, it would have been easier just to mow her down and keep going, but she was a tiny little human, and he really couldn’t bring himself to damage her.
“Can I help you with anything?” She rushed out as he rushed by her.
“Nope.”
Kent wasn’t much for words. Not when he had other things on his mind. Boy, did he have other things on his mind?
“Are you looking for someone?” That little human assistant wasn’t giving up, and now she was following him. He guessed that he might have come off as being a little insane.
“In a way — yes.”
“In what way?” She was snapping at his heels like a dog with a bone while he was practically running around in circles chasing that scent, the woman that it belonged to — his mate — must have been over every inch of the damn store already and he didn’t believe that she had many more places to visit.
Who did that? Who walked around in circles, over and over again?
“I’m looking for a woman,” Kent tossed back over his shoulder.
“Well, if you tell me her name, I can put a call out for you,” the assistant offered.
“Can’t.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know her name.” Kent grimaced, he knew that sounded bad, sounded stupid, and when he tossed a look back over his shoulder — she was mumbling into the walkie-talkie that she held in her hand.
Kent knew there was about to be trouble. He had to find his mate, and fast.
“Why’d you need to find a woman?” The little human female asked, still snapping at his heels.
Kent’s eyes darted around the area almost as fast as he did. He spotted the sign for the female changing rooms and headed toward it.
A moment later and that pesky little assistant was in front of him. She held up her hands to her chest to bring him to a stop, and he had a desire to bowl her over and keep going.
Mine…
Security would be on their way — he could feel it in his bones. Now, was the time that he needed to find his mate before she got away — before he got kicked out on his backside.
“Not so fast!” The assistant said.
“I just need to check…”
“Women only — and there’s no way you pass for a woman,” she eyed him up and down, and another time he might have been flattered by her attention and where her gaze lingered, but not when his very happiness and the future of his life and his pups were on the line.
Not that he had pups — not that he had his mate — that was what he needed to find. He’d picked up that scent downstairs as he’d walked through the door of the department store and it had hit him like a kick to the gut and a wakeup call to his very soul.
He’d lost that scent while going through the perfume aisle. He hated the fact that he’d still tried to sniff it out even through all of that artificial smelly stuff that had him sneezing like an idiot. He’d practically growled at the woman who had tried to approach him with a tester bottle of that disgusting stench, and she’d backed away.
By the time that he’d covered most of the downstairs and reached the escalator, he’d pick that scent right back up again. Department by department, floor by floor, he’d tracked his mate. He was so close that he could taste it.
“I think I’d look great in a dress. Go fetch me one.” Kent thought it was worth a try. But the look that she gave him said that she wasn’t buying it.
“We don’t have your size…” She raised her left eyebrow at him.
“How do you know if you don’t go and look?” Kent asked.
“Trust me — we don’t have anything on this floor that would fit you.”
“Shoes?”
“No.”
“Sweater?”
“No.”
“Scarf?”
He knew that he’d hit the nail right on the head with that one. Who didn’t fit a scarf? You could wrap a scarf around an elephant’s neck — not that he was an elephant; he was all wolf.
The woman’s mouth opened, and she took a moment to think about it before closing her mouth again without speaking. She narrowed her eyes at him, and he knew that his backside was toast.
“You’re just biding your time until security turns up, aren’t you?” Kent asked.
“Something like that,” she said, and her cheeks immediately flushed with color, she clasped her hands in front of her and looked decidedly guilty.
“Then…” He made a swift play to the left, and when she moved with him, he darted around her to the right. Bait and switch, it worked every time.
He was in the closed-off area before she could squeal out her protest, which she did, and his ears felt every painful burst of it. But he didn’t care, that scent had led him to that point, and he wasn’t giving up.
“You can’t be back here,” she shrieked out as she followed him down the long, thin corridor that was lined with doors on either side.
Kent didn’t have a choice. Most of the doors were open, but two were closed. He guessed that he could have sniffed at them like he was looking for breakfast, but with the human snapping at his heels, he didn’t think that would be such a good idea.
He fisted the handle of the first door and pushed it open. Luckily for him, the woman inside was almost fully dressed, just the zip on the back of her dress was halfway down.
Her wide eyes caught sight of him in the mirror, and she gasped. Kent grimaced, reached out with finger and thumb, and yanked the zip upwards.
“Perfect on you — your husband, boyfriend, future husband, will love it.” He said and beamed the woman one hell of a sexy grin. She beamed one back at him.
Then he slammed the door closed, and started off down the corridor for the second door. His beast grumbled within him unless he was missing something – here she was – his mate – his life – his everything.
“You really can’t do…” the assistant rushed out, but he thrust open the door. “That.” She sighed.
Kent drew in a long breath up his nose. The scent hit him hard, up close and personal it was so much more potent than when he’d been chasing it around the store.
“Hi, honey, I’m home,” Kent growled just a little.
It was enough to tell the witch what she already knew, what she had already suspected when she’d clocked the shifter sniffing the air downstairs, and as he hunted her around the store like a dog with a bone. The same reason that she was hiding in the damn changing room like a thief
in the night, and she sagged in place.
CHAPTER NINE
~
“Didn’t I throw you off the scent with the damn perfume?” Darby sighed.
“Nope.”
“I’m so sorry — security is on the way,” the assistant offered from somewhere behind the big shifter who was blocking the doorway with his broad frame, and Darby waved a dismissive hand.
“The scent of bacon?” She asked the shifter.
“Nope.” Kent grinned from ear to ear — it was a wolfish grin, and she didn’t appreciate it. “But I am hungry now.”
“I definitely thought I’d lost you going through men’s shoes,” Darby offered back. She’d conjured up the smell of sweaty feet quite perfectly.
“That one was tricky, but here I am,” Kent wiggled his eyebrows at her.
“Like a dog with a bone,” Darby sighed.
“Ouch.” Kent berated her with just a look.
“If we go to the pet department and I find a nice ball…?” Darby left it there.
“Sorry, still a dog with a bone,” Kent offered back.
“Sir!” The sound of reinforcements coming down the corridor bolstered the young assistant into action.
“He refuses to leave,” she said.
“Sir?” The voice sounded bored. Kent could understand that — he’d done security jobs in the past, and he hated it.
“You want to help me out?” Kent asked Darby, and the sight of mischief in her eyes, combined with the smug smile just before she snagged her lower lips with her teeth, gave him his answer.
“Sorry,” she offered back in a singsong voice.
“That’s okay — now I know you by sight, sound, and scent. I will find you again,” Kent said.
“What are the odds?” she leaned in slightly and offered him a devilishly wicked grin.
“I wouldn’t bet against me,” he said before he turned toward the aging security guard, held up his hands at his chest in surrender, and started toward the man.
“Glad to see you’re being reasonable, sir,” the security guard offered back.
“I found what I was looking for.” Kent chuckled.
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“That’s my door!” Joy exclaimed as the alpha took a certain amount of satisfaction in flicking out his razor-sharp claws and getting into position in front of the closet.
“There are many ways to skin a cat…” Alf growled, and Joy screwed up her face in disgust.
“Yuck…”
“He doesn’t do that – we – we don’t do that,” Clark assured her. “I like cats…”
“You hate cats,” Alf growled. “He hates cats, can’t stand the pesky little vermin.” He offered with a smirk for his brother as Joy turned a suspicious eye on her mate.
“I have nothing against vermin,” Clark said, holding up his hands in surrender.
“Cats are not vermin,” Joy scowled at him, but it didn’t last long – the sound of the alpha wrenched the door out of place, and the hinges and lock giving way under the strength of his grip, sent her attention flying back to the alpha as both witches gasped at once.
“My door!” Joy exclaimed in disbelief.
“Here, hold this for your mate,” Alf said and tossed the door at his brother, who was still contemplating the whole mate-cat thing and was slow to react. He caught it with his head.
“You…!” Harper hissed at him as she took one step forward to the threshold of the closet and tossed daggers at him from her eyes, she only wished she had the real thing to hand.
“As I said, there are more ways to skin a cat,” Alf growled.
“Don’t damage my door with your thick head,” Joy grumbled at her mate as he batted it away and it crash-landed against the kitchen floor.
“It attacked me first,” Clark growled, shooting a glare at his brother, but the man wasn’t paying him any attention; his gaze was locked on Harper like he expected another attack from her.
“You are such an … alpha,” she bit out.
“Do I attack you for being a real – witch?” he growled back.
“Yes,” she snapped back and watched his lips twitched as he fought to come back from that defeat.
“Not the point,” he growled.
“So, was the point.” She said, folding her arms and lifting her chin in victory at him.
His beast didn’t like that look on her. Hell, it didn’t like her whole attitude, and it grumbled a protest in his chest and berated him for miffing her off.
Mine… Clark’s beast was at it again, clawing within him and trying to get the beta to state their claim on his mate.
“What’s your problem? You look like you have a dodgy stomach and can’t find a toilet,” Joy eyed the man with equal amounts of suspicion and curiosity.
“Nothing,” Clark bit out, trying his damnedest to keep his beast caged within him when all it wanted was out. Out to get closer to her, out to take her scent, know her, and out because it wanted to force Clark’s hand and get the wooing underway.
“Sure there is…”
“No there’s not.”
Mine…
“You look like that all the time?”
“Like what?” he growled.
Mine…
“Like you’re sucking in your butt cheeks under fear of a volcano erupting in your pants,” Joy tossed back.
“Graphic, but I like it,” Harper said, and Alf tossed a quick glance in his brother’s direction.
“She’s not wrong,” Alf agreed, but he caught sight of Harper trying to sidestep away from him and snapped his attention right back toward her. She froze on the spot like an innocent, but he knew there was nothing innocent about the witch.
Mine… Clark’s beast was trying it’s damnedest to drive him insane, and it was working.
“I’m damn fine, couldn’t be finer,” Clark growled.
“Better,” Joy corrected him.
“That too,” he growled as his beast clawed to be set free.
“Brother, just shit or get off the damn pot,” Alf growled.
Watching Clark practically implode and explode at the same time was all well and good, but it was distracting him from the sneaky and devious witch, and that wasn’t so good.
“Fine,” Clark growled out. “Mine!” He let loose, turning his dark gaze to Joy and watching the woman back up and flatten her body against the kitchen wall like she was desperate to push through to the other side.
Clark’s beast finally stopped clawing and pushing to be set free. Damn wolf; it was sated for now, but he knew his beast and patience wasn’t its strongest virtue.
“Ha!” Harper spat out in triumph. “See, you tempted fate!”
“That’s it?” Joy said, swallowing the lump in her throat as she offered her friend the look of a condemned woman. “That’s all you have to say?” she demanded.
“Pretty much,” Harper grinned at her friend’s reaction to the news that she’d just found that Mr. Right, and the happily ever after that she’d been talking about earlier. It was kind of cute and kind of funny at the same time.
Harper was just thankful that the new man in her life only wanted to kill her.
“Well, if you like that,” Alf growled and took one small step towards her, leaning his upper body in until he was eye to eye with the witch. To her credit, she didn’t pull back away from him. “You’re gonna love this – mine…”
“What the Free Willy!?” Harper shrieked.
“Told you not to mess with his stupid boxes!” Joy bit out. “And you know why the box exploded? Her double-wide backside – that’s why!”
Alf’s gaze snapped from Harper to Joy, and back to Harper again as he took that information in and grumbled on it for a long moment, and he offered her a low growl of annoyance.
“You sat on it?”
“In it!” Joy exclaimed. “After forcing in way to much stuff – then poofffy – splat – squeal, and bitch!”
“Oh, you are so writin
g a detailed retraction and an apology,” Alf growled.
Harper screwed up her face and looked anywhere but at him. She looked guilty, and well she might. All of this could have been avoided, everything that had happened could never have been, and he’d have been none the wiser that he had a witch mate if she’d never have posted lies on her blog.
Alf wasn’t exactly sure which wall he wanted to headbutt, but that need to make it all go away clawed within him at the same time as his wolf was already yipping like a pup, and mentally rolling over to show her his damn tummy, and all because of the lies a devious little witch had told.
Oh, he was going to stand over her while she wrote that retraction.
CHAPTER TEN
~
Darby couldn’t get away from the apologetic sales assistant fast enough. Being stalked by one guy was bad enough, and it was the reason that she’d ducked into the department store in the first place, but two men on her trail was just… careless.
She had to wonder if karma was finally catching up with her because there was bad luck and then there was just the day that she was having. All in all – it sucked.
She skirted back through the men’s department, deciding to leave through one of the side entrances because that was the quickest way back onto the high street without actually going out the front doors. Either man could be waiting for her out front, or maybe they expect her to think that they were waiting out front and then she’d go out the back doors?
Men were sneaky, but she would be sneakier and leave via the side exit. Job done, or was it?
Darby spotted Brogan instantly because the man stood out like a sore thumb. He might have been a vampire, but did he have to stay stuck in the seventies with his Saturday Night Fever disco-isn’t-dead look? Well, it was dead, and so was he – the very least that he could do was not draw attention to himself.
She cursed under her breath and swiveled away from him, crashing into the broad, hard, muscled chest of Kent. At first she wasn’t entirely sure what she’d hit, thinking that maybe Brogan had taken the risk with more than his fashion sense and had double-timed it to get ahead of her, but no, as she tipped her head back and stared up into those darkening eyes – she kind of wished it had been the vampire.
