by M. L. Briers
“Talk to the hand, better still, the backside, as it’s walking away from you…” Samuel called back over his shoulder. Happy in his own little world where witches didn’t even exist.
“Yeah, you give an accurate description of yourself – idiot,” Fallon muttered.
The sound of another growl from the beta that rumbled back towards her like rolling thunder was well worth the effort in her book as the shifter stalked off.
“I’m guessing this isn’t a friend of yours?” Nathan said to his mate as he eyed Fallon. “Although, the attitude is frightening similar.”
“Must be a witch thing,” Sarah offered him a teasing grin when he shot a look in her direction.
“Shocker,” Nathan grinned. His eyes shone with the good nature that he found in abundance every time he was around his mate.
There was also the look of hunger on his face that had nothing to do with food and everything to do with the fact that he couldn’t seem to get enough of his new mate.
Fallon grunted in annoyance as she started for the back of the car. She really didn’t have time for mates, for alphas, for betas, or for bad mood shifters.
She didn’t have time for posturing and figuring out who had the bigger set of balls on them. Although, in a contest between her and the beta, she’d have to guess that she’d come out the winner.
Fallon wanted nothing more than to be gone from the Inn, from the mountain, and from anything to do with her grandmother. She wanted to be in her car; putting her mistake behind her in the rear-view mirror…
But first, and thanks to the meddling witch with the alpha mate, she needed to change her stupid tyre. She felt the need to zap Sarah, or the wolf shifter, or any damn one that walked into her path…
“Leave the tyre, and I’ll do it,” Nathan growled.
“I’ve got it,” Fallon bit back.
Nathan opened his mouth to speak, but his mate got in there first and silenced him…
“She’s got it,” Sarah shrugged her shoulders. “Who knows – a little manual labour might knock the chip off her shoulder.”
Fallon bit down on a myriad of words that wanted to escape her lips. None of them would have been welcomed in polite society, but she didn’t think that mattered much where she was and with the company that she was keeping.
The sooner that she fixed the car. The sooner they could kiss her backside goodbye.
~
~
~
Dorothy wished that she could stomp. She missed stomping when she was in a bad mood, because it felt like she was grounding all of her problems down into the dirt.
Right then; those problems felt heavy on her shoulders and they were weighing her down.
But stomping at her age led to jarring of the bones, and jarring of the bones led to throwing out a hip, and she didn’t want to end up hobbling a little in the same way that Angela used to do, before her friend had been given vampire blood.
Her granddaughter showing up like that had definitely thrown her. She’d never expected the girl to track her down after all of those years … and then there was the whole accusation thing…
She guessed that couldn’t be helped. She’d done what she could at the time. Hell, she’d done what she thought was right.
Dorothy grumbled and muttered as she went, tossing things over in her mind. She didn’t like to relive the past – not that particular part of it at any rate…
She guessed that she should have known that one day it would come back to bite her on the backside. Life always managed to do that, no matter how long it took or how far you got in life – things always tended to catch up to you.
Why should life make her the exception to the rule?
No, Dorothy knew enough to have a bad feeling that one day there would be questions to answer, and in truth, she’d waited a long time for them. But just when she’d thought that she would never hear them … bam!
Blindsided.
Dorothy pulled up short the instant that Chloe, the resident newbie vampire and former owner of the Inn, and Sarah’s not-so-dead-Aunt, dropped down in front of her from the trees above.
Her heart got lodged in her throat at the unexpected sight of the blood hungry vampire, and she wondered for a moment, as it skipped a beat, if it would stop completely … at her age, anything was possible and some things were just likely to happen.
“Oh look, the breakfast of champions – wanna open a vein?” Chloe grinned with glee.
Chloe’s fangs were partly down. It was something that seemed to happen a lot to her every time that she scented Fae blood.
She didn’t consider it a failing on her part, or in fact, her fault. Being a newbie seemed to come with a few disadvantages … like craving blood, especially Fae blood, and controlling her urges.
All urges.
Everything seemed heightened. Things were magnified beyond belief to the point of being so damn frustrating…
Monty kept telling her that a little blood could go a long way – sadly it didn’t feel like that when she got the taste on her tongue…
Again – not her fault.
But those fangs were showing way too much for Dorothy’s liking.
CHAPTER THREE
~
Dorothy took all of her anger and put it into her magic. She zapped the vampire so hard that every muscle in the woman’s body locked up to the point where she was certain that some of those ligaments and sinews had actually torn apart under the stress … not that she could tell, because her body healed so fast.
Chloe knew that her legs couldn’t hold her up one moment longer. She dropped down to the ground on her hands and knees, locking her elbows as best that she could so that she didn’t face plant the grass, and bit down on the pain as Dorothy took out her bad mood on the one person who could truly miff her off…
“Whoa – whoa – whoa there, Missy…” The velvety smooth, deep tones that came from somewhere to the right of Dorothy practically knocked the witch upside the head and dragged her, maybe kicking and screaming a little, out of her tunnel vision.
His voice was both berating and soothing at the same time, and something within her responded to that sound … even if she’s much rather that it didn’t.
Dorothy snapped off her magic and took a small step back on a big grimace as she looked from where Chloe was shaking off the last blast of pain; to where the newcomer was stalking towards her…
The man was an elder – a silver fox if ever she’d seen one – and with streaks of silver hair interlaced with the natural black of his thick mane, he suited that moniker.
His eyes were the colour of the most expensive Jade, and Dorothy found that her heart skipped another beat, this time it was within her throat, before it felt as if it slowly slid downwards in her chest and lodged back down into place where it belonged.
That man would certainly give Lark a run for his money any day of the week.
I guess the pack still has some secrets to keep – like where they’ve been hiding this one.
Look at those eyes … they’re sinful…
Oh dear … Dorothy had a brain fart…
What did I do to Chloe?
She wanted to turn her gaze away from the silver fox, but her eyes had a mind of their own…
Ahh, she deserved it … and as a damn vampire, she’ll live.
“Easy there, young lady…” Hank’s deep tones reached into Dorothy’s psyche and calmed her racing heart – it may still have skipped a beat or two, but that time it was in a good way and she didn’t mind it so much.
“Young lady…” Chloe snorted her contempt for the elders as she pushed up to her feet and shook off the rest of Dorothy’s magic.
She wasn’t best pleased to be used as target practice, and obviously the elder witch had a sense of humour failing that day, but that was not her fault.
Heck, she was trying to be good … trying to keep her bloodlust at bay, and she hadn’t sucked a witch dry yet… but it seemed nobody was willing to
give her brownie points for that.
It’s not like it’s my fault that I’m a vampire … oh wait … ok, maybe that one is my fault, but still…
I can’t get into my Inn, because my witchy niece doesn’t trust me.
I can’t catch a break from the pack or the witches…
And here I am – minding my own business, when bam! Attacked by a witch … and they say that I’m a problem!
Ha!
Maybe I should suck a witch or two dry, at least then they’ll have a reason to zap me…
“Watch it, Chloe…” Hank growled the warning and his wolf wholeheartedly agreed. It seemed the beast didn’t like the vampire’s attitude towards the elder any more than he did.
But then, his wolf was a particular brand of over protective where females were concerned.
Hank turned his attention towards Dorothy. He knew one thing; the woman must have been striking in her youth, because she still looked good to his eyes, and other parts of him, as she’d made his pulse race.
Not that he could afford too much of that at his age, but for the ladies, he’d make an exception.
“Bite me, Hank…” Chloe sneered.
She had to admit that she’d never expected Dorothy to attack her out of the blue like that, and boy, the woman certainly did pack one heck of a punch with her magic.
Back in the day, before she’d allowed her mate to turn her into a vampire, she had that same strength of magical power to rely on, and she kind of missed it…
I could have given her a run for her money with my magic.
Zap me!
Pah!
Witches… She mentally sneered, feeling hard done by that she didn’t still have her powers to zap the elder with and show her who was boss.
She might have had fangs and claws, speed and agility, but that would have felt like cheating if she brought the witch down with those. Nope, she certainly missed her magic.
Not that she’d ever tell the witches that…
Hank had one eye on the newbie vampire, watching for any sign of retribution from the woman, and the rest of his attention was taken by the witch.
He much preferred to look at the elder…
“You must be Dorothy. I’ve heard a lot about you from Lark – when he’s about.” Hank said.
He didn’t begrudge Lark finding his mate. He just missed sitting out on the porch with the salty old dog, and shooting the breeze.
He felt his wolf push forwards. The beast was already on alert from where he’d been tracking Chloe all over the land, but now its interests lay elsewhere.
“Funny, I’ve heard nothing about you,” Dorothy tossed back.
It wasn’t a lie, not as she saw it, but then Lark could have spoken about him and it would probably have slipped from her sieve like memory so she couldn’t swear to it…
“Well, Lark is jealous of my dashing good looks and my more athletic build. It’s hardly surprising that he doesn’t sing my praises the way that he’s sung yours. But if I’d know what a catch you were, I just might have come over sooner and introduced myself properly.” Hank said, turning on the charm with a smile that dared her eyes to try and look away from him…
“Oh, I think I just threw up a little…” Chloe groaned with an over-exaggerated roll of her eyes within her head. “Yep … that’s not really very tasty at all.”
“Now, listen here, Vampire…” Dorothy bit out in annoyance as she managed to drag her eyes away from the silver fox charmer, and she turned her attention towards the woman who annoyed her so.
She’d had enough of smart mouthed youngsters already that morning. Not that Chloe was exactly young; the woman had been an elder witch before she’d been turned into a vampire … but still … that was not the point because she looked young, and she was certainly annoying, so her attitude still riled Dorothy up the wrong way.
“Don’t you have something better to do, Chloe?” Hank growled a warning in the vampire’s direction, and his wolf offered to take chase and scare her off.
Hank caged the beast in. If he allowed his beast out to go around chasing after Chloe then he’d have to leave Dorothy’s side, and he wasn’t prepared to do that just yet.
“Hmm, let me see … snack on a Fae or drink from a blood bag…” Chloe held her hands up in front of her and weighed her options as she rolled her eyes to the heavens and made her point…
“Chloe…” Hank growled.
“Wait for it…” Chloe teased back.
Hank had given the woman something of a pass since she’d become … blood challenged, because he’d pretty much known her for all of her previous life, for all of his life, and she’d been a good person and a good neighbour to his pack.
That was one of the reasons that he’d hoped she’d get through her newbie stage without hurting anyone, or without the pack having a need to kill her. That time they’d have to make sure it was for good. Because the woman that he’d known for decades wouldn’t have wanted to hurt anyone, least of all a witch.
“I’d like to say that the blood bag was the winner, but…” Chloe shrugged her shoulders.
“I have no qualms about hurting you – or killing you if it comes to that,” Dorothy assured her.
It was true that she was in the right frame of mind to do it. She may have come to regret it later, but in that moment; she wouldn’t have thought twice about it.
“I’ll remember that the next time we meet,” Chloe assured her, and it didn’t sound like an idle threat to Dorothy.
“Fine.” Dorothy shot back.
“Good.” Chloe sneered.
“Chloe…!” Hank growled.
“Ok, party pooper,” Chloe said as she rallied around towards Hank. “I’ll let you be the gentleman that I know you to be and walk the witch back to my Inn.”
“Sarah’s Inn,” Dorothy muttered.
“Only for now…” Chloe assured her, before she took off at a speed that Dorothy’s eyes couldn’t track of if she’d wanted to, and left her standing there without being able to get in the last word…
That was going to bug her for the rest of the day…
“Well…” Hank said, filling the silent void, but he stopped in mid thought with the appearance of Monty, Chloe’s mate, and resident vampire for longer than Hank had been alive.
The elder sighed inwardly.
“She’s … not here, is she?” Monty bit down on his annoyance as his eyes scanned the area and he scented the air looking for his mate.
Times were trying…
“You just missed her.” Hank said, and the vampire sighed like he longed for a break…
“I’m really rethinking this whole chain her to the damn bed thing until she can behave herself…” Monty grumbled.
“What’s wrong with a dungeon? Plenty roomy and she ain’t escaping that sucker,” Dorothy muttered…
“Oh, someone has the grumps this morning, tell me, did the tooth fairy steal some more in the night? Maybe right out of the glass by your bed?” Monty grinned at the elder, but she just snorted her contempt for him right back. “Good luck with that.” Monty offered to Hank with a nod in her direction, before he took off after Chloe.
“Let me walk you back to the Inn,” Hank offered.
“Why? I’m not senile. I know how to get back,” Dorothy wasn’t in the mood to be charitable, even for a man that looked as good as he did, and one that seemed well intentioned.
“Well, good for you. I sometimes put the milk back in the oven…”
Hank’s confession was a lie, but it was done in good faith and generosity. He was as sharp as a tack, but she didn’t need to know that.
“At least you know where to look if it’s not in the fridge.” Dorothy wasn’t feeling the need to be herself – all bright and breezy would have felt strained, and being on everyone’s nice list didn’t cut the mustard.
She wanted to rally against something, and zapping that damned annoying vampire just hadn’t done the trick.
Dorothy knew t
hat she was wallowing in self-pity, and she thought that after all of the years that she’d spent searching for her granddaughter, she had every right to it. Especially after what had happened at the Inn…
“Ooo, feisty,” Hank shot back, arching his greying eyebrows high on his weather beaten forehead and grinning like a lunatic back at her.
The elder witch wasn’t exactly how Lark had described her, but he guessed that everyone was entitled to have an off day, and he’d been unlucky enough to run into her on hers.
Dorothy snorted her contempt for the man. He was a flirt – and she was too – just not in that moment in time.
He’d caught her on a bad day, but she didn’t have the mind to feel guilty about his timing.
“There you are…” Angela berated her as she strolled towards the two of them and acknowledged Hank with a nod of her head. “For an old broad, I’m sure you’re getting faster.”
“Maybe you’re just worn out from all the rumpty you’re getting,” Dorothy shot back.
Then without warning; she turned on her heels and started away from them, throwing Angela off guard, and just as Lark walked up behind his mate and grumbled a hello to Hank.
“What brings you out this far?” Lark asked his friend.
“Chloe.” He didn’t need to give any other explanation than that.
“You’ve met Dorothy…” Lark said, and one side of Hank’s mouth lifted in a small smile.
“We haven’t been formerly introduced.”
“I’m sure you’ll get over it,” Dorothy tossed back over her shoulder as she kept on walking away.
Angela scowled … it wasn’t like Dorothy to miss batting her eyelashes at a good looking man. She’d done it enough to Lark when they’d first met before she knew that he was Angela’s mate.
“She’s not normally that rude,” Angela said to Hank, but what she was actually doing was calling out after her friend.
“Sure I am. You were just a lot deafer before the vampire blood.” Dorothy grunted in annoyance, she didn’t need Angela to apologise for her, but still she kept going.
“Well, I should go track Chloe – I don’t want her eating anyone and feeling bad about it a few hundred years down the line.” Hank said, and he lifted his chin and scented the air looking for the vampire on the breeze…
