A Witch’s Revenge
Chronicles of an Urban Druid™ Book 4
Auburn Tempest
Michael Anderle
This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.
Copyright © 2020 LMBPN Publishing
Cover by Fantasy Book Design
Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing
A Michael Anderle Production
LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
LMBPN Publishing
PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy
Las Vegas, NV 89109
First US edition, December 2020
eBook ISBN: 978-1-64971-390-2
Print ISBN: 978-1-64971-391-9
The A Witch’s Revenge Team
Thanks to our JIT Team:
Dorothy Lloyd
James Caplan
Diane L. Smith
Jeff Goode
John Ashmore
Daniel Weigert
Deb Mader
Rachel Beckford
Kelly O’Donnell
Dave Hicks
Micky Cocker
Debi Sateren
Paul Westman
Larry Omans
Editor
SkyHunter Editing Team
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Irish Translations
Author Notes - Auburn Tempest
Author Notes - Michael Anderle
About Auburn Tempest
Books by Auburn Tempest
Connect with The Authors
Other LMBPN Publishing Books
Chapter One
“She shoots! She scores!” I choke up on my stick and raise it over my head as Kevin, Dillan, and Nikon bring it in for a round of victory high-fives.
“And there you have it, ladies and germs,” Dillan says in his best Ron McLean impression. “The Lucky Pucks win the round-robin series four games to three leaving the Hat-trick Heroes broken and buying the booze for the night. Looosers.”
Aiden, Calum, Sloan, and Emmet bow to the terms. Emmet points at Dillan and frowns. “We prefer to be called the graceful non-winners rather than losers, thank you.”
I giggle, take a final bow, and jog over to where poor Sloan looks defeated in the net. “Sack up, Mackenzie. You grew up as an only child in a castle. No one expects you to be Patrick Roy out of the gate.”
“Good, because I don’t know who that is.”
Emmet screeches in horror and throws Sloan a look of disdain. “How about Martin Brodeur? Johnny Bower? Felix Potvin?”
Sloan’s blank gaze has all of my brothers giving him the stink-eye.
“Seriously?” Aiden says. “Is he fucking with us?”
I shake my head. “Nope. I don’t think so.”
“Okay, Irish.” Dillan holds up his hands. “This is serious. Forget about the best goalies of all time. For all the green Skittles, this is your Final Jeopardy question. Can you, Sloan Abercrombie Fancy-pants Mackenzie, name one notable hockey player?”
He looks at me for a hint, and I lift my hand, blow, and make like I’m drinking a coffee. We talked about this just this morning. Come on, dude….
“Tim Horton’s?”
Dillan snorts. “Tim Horton is the hockey player. Tim Horton’s is the coffee shop he opened when he retired.”
“Ding, ding, ding…close enough,” Nikon says, coming to his rescue. The blond immortal looks good windblown and pats Sloan on the shoulder. “As the other non-Cumhaill add-in and hockey flunky in attendance, I vote Sloan gets the point.”
Dillan then turns his attention on Nikon. “Okay, Greek. As an immortal god, sticking your neck out for Sloan puts you in no peril, so let’s up the stakes. Can you give us one notable hockey player?”
Nikon rolls his eyes. “I’m a Greek immortal, full stop. Not a god.”
“You’re stalling. Full stop. What’s your answer?”
He flashes a cocky smile. “Wayne Gretzky.”
My brothers nod and the tension eases.
Dillan holds up his finger. “You get a bonus point for picking a local boy. Greek, you pass the test. Sloan… you’re on probation. We’re watching you, Irish.”
I laugh at the alarm in Sloan’s gaze and pull him out of the net. “Relax. They’re razzing you. You upgraded from my annoying but talented druid friend to potential love interest. The boys will bust your balls for a bit.”
“First off, potential love interest? I thought we’d jumped that hurdle and second, I thought they already like me.”
“Oh, they do. That has nothing to do with it. They’ve tormented every boyfriend I’ve ever had. It’s a rite of passage. Don’t worry. You’ll do fine.”
“Showers and Shenanigans?” Kevin tosses his gloves on the top of the net.
I shake my gloves off so I can check the time on my Fitbit and nod. “Yeah. It’s five-thirty now. Let’s say burgers and beer at seven?”
“Done deal.” Dillan raises his stick. “Bring it in Clan Cumhaill. Our blood, our sweat, your tears.”
The five of us clack sticks and that signals the end of the Cumhaill side lane four-on-four tournament.
“Don’t worry, Hat-trick Heroes.” Calum jogs off to catch up with Kevin to get cleaned up for the pub. “We’ll get ’em next weekend.”
Sloan frowns at me. “You do this every weekend?”
He’s too funny. “It’s an October and November thing. It’s too hot in the summer and too cold by December to schedule anything but a shinny game now and then. Look at it this way. You can only get better.”
Dillan snorts. “Yep. As far as hockey skills go, you’re nothing but raw potential.”
Sloan’s scowl is classic. “I could’ve done better if you’d let me cast a spell.”
“Cheater, cheater, pumpkin eater.” Emmet stacks the nets and lifts the crossbars with his shoulder to carry them back into our yard. “Oh, and fair warning. In this family, if you’re caught cheating or lying, we actually do make you eat raw pumpkin.”
“And it’s gross.” I grimace, and the back of my throat heaves a little. “Those goopy stringy bits in the center are nothing but slime worms in your mouth. They slither down the back of your throat and make you gag.”
Emmet snorts. “It’s a cruel and effective punishment. Usually lying is a one and done offense in this family.”
Sloan looks at me and arches a brow. “What did you cheat at that got you condemned to a
squash sentencing?”
It’s embarrassing, but hey, if you do the crime you do the time in this family. “I sold Brenny’s scooter to a kid at school and took the money to buy makeup and a training bra.”
My cheeks flush hot.
Sloan chuckles and brushes a finger over my traitorous cheek. No doubt, with my pasty complexion, they’re now flaming, blotchy pink. “I take it when ye got caught, ye lied about it?”
“She sure did.” Dillan opens the back gate to usher us all into the yard. “She put the blame squarely on Emmet, and we all believed her. After all, our baby girl wouldn’t lie.”
I bat my eyes and throw Emmet an apologetic smile. “In my defense, I was eleven and Emmet was bragging about all the new Yu-Gi-Oh! men he bought with the twenty bucks he found on the forest path to our fort. He made an easy patsy.”
Emmet scratches his eyebrow with his middle finger, and I giggle. “He’s not just flipping me the bird. He’s also showing you the scar he has to remember the occasion.”
Sloan’s head cranks around like he’s part owl. “Ye framed him fer yer crime and beat on him?”
I snort. “No. Brendan punched him.”
Sloan checks out the line of skin that cuts through Emmet’s ebony eyebrow. “Yer twelve and yer older brother hits ye hard enough in the face to give ye stitches? I’m all for a good donnybrook, but that seems harsh.”
Dillan laughs. “No. Brendan punched him in the sack and Emmet piked and cracked his face off the fireplace hearth. What do you think we are… barbarians?”
Sloan’s horror makes me bust out laughing. “Oh, surly. You missed out by not having brothers. Don’t worry. I’ll share. My brothers are your brothers now. You’re welcome.”
Dillan and Emmet laugh. “Yeah. You’re welcome.”
Shenanigans on a Saturday night is always a good time. The music is upbeat, the bartender happens to be one of my favorite people in the world, and for some inexplicable reason, the Redbreast Whiskey tastes best served here.
“So, you and the uptight GQ model, eh? How’s that going for you?”
I swivel my stool at the bar and glance back at the tables we’ve commandeered in the back. Once I’ve made sure our convo is our own, I check back with Liam and try to gauge whether he’s upset or razzing me for the fun. “You know I love you forever and always.”
He chuckles. “That’s a two-way street, Fi-bee.”
I snort. “You haven’t called me that in a million years.”
“Right about when you stopped buzzing around Aiden, Brendan, and I and getting us into trouble.”
“Mostly so you’d stop calling me Fi-bee.” The two of us chuckle, and I tip back my tumbler and let the liquid goodness warm its way down to my belly to join the growing pool of intoxication. “Seriously. You’re okay with Sloan and me? I didn’t mean to get us tangled up.”
“It wasn’t you who tangled things up, Fi. That was me.” Liam shoves a lime slice into the neck of a Corona, sets it on a tray, adds two Guinness, and knocks his knuckles against the bar to signal the order complete.
Kady shuffles over from the soda fountain with two Cokes and sets them on the tray as well. “Thanks.” Her gaze falls on his face, then flits around the back wall of the bar.
He winks at her, and I put my fingers over my mouth to stifle my laugh. “Oh, and here I was twisting myself up about letting you down. That’s how it is, is it?”
Liam scowls and stalks up the bar to close the distance. “Drop it Fi. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I peg him with a look and waggle my brows. “You’d like to think so, but you know I’ve got you pegged. What happened to the no fraternizing with staff? Did she catch you at a weak moment by the grease trap? I know, it was one of those nights when you dropped her home. She invited you up…one thing led to another….”
He rolls his eyes and leans closer. “It was the dry storage room after close and stop. No one knows. You’re not supposed to know.”
“The storage room? How cliché. Every bar movie ever has people getting busy between the racks of dried goods.”
“You’re full of shit. Name one.”
“Roadhouse.”
He rolls his eyes. “You’re such a freak. What’s with you and that movie?”
“Um…hello, it’s a classic. Patrick Swayze and Sam Elliott on the same screen busting heads in bar fights. It’s adrenaline perfection.”
He snorts. “If you say so, crazy lady.”
I realize I’ve squirreled off on a tangent and get back to the point. “So, back to you and Kady.”
He checks that our convo is still private and leans closer. “A little louder. I don’t think you alerted the entire bar.”
“Oh, please. I won’t embarrass either of you by exposing the sordid details of the two of you tossing rules to the side. Although, I am concerned about the hygiene of the dried goods. Where are we on that front?”
“The dried goods survived unscathed.”
“That’s a relief.” I swirl the whiskey in my tumbler and sip. “Next question. Was it one perfect moment that shall never be repeated or are we talking shadowed corners and stolen moments?”
He looks at me and bites the inside of his mouth.
I burst out laughing. “Well, this is getting interesting.”
“You totally suck.”
“Hells yes, I do. Now, come clean.”
“Okay fine, it’s maybe turning out to be more than a moment of horny restocking.”
His fluster is so adorable I want to squeal and stomp my feet. I don’t. I meant what I said. I’d never jam him up. “Good for you two. Seriously. Kady is lovely, and she’s been sad since she and Dillan broke up.”
An order pops up on the register’s screen, and he sets to work mixing a blender drink. “Do you think Dillan will be pissed? I’m in total violation of the Bro Code here.”
I consider that and dismiss his concern. “Dillan called it quits because our druid lives are dangerous and Kady doesn’t do well with violence. She didn’t like him being a cop. She would never have been happy knowing what other things go bump in the night.”
He pulls a draught and sets it on the tray to grab a second glass. “Sitting on the sidelines is a tough burden to bear. Especially when you’re the odd man out with no powers.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. You took on vampires and hobgoblins and lived to tell the tale. You have powers, just not fae magical ones.”
Liam pours the fruity frozen cocktail into a mason jar and measures out gin to add to the shaker. “Part of me envies your brothers and Sloan because they get to join you on this massive journey of danger and adventure.”
“But the other part?”
He grips the stainless steel cocktail shaker with both hands and starts shaking. “The other part remembers how much it hurt to be shot and how scary it was to be kidnapped and threatened by psychotic members of an empowered world no one knows about.”
“I never wanted that for you.” I tip back my tumbler, empty it, and smack it on the bar for a refill. “I hate that it happened and will forever feel responsible for your suffering.”
He sends that order off and grabs the bottle of Redbreast before coming over to me. “I know that, and I don’t hold any resentment at all. The thing is, you took it as another bad day dealing with bad people. There’s something about you and your family. You’re built to take things like that in stride. I think it’s why you make great cops, and I know it’s why you’ll make great druids.”
He tops my glass and leans his elbows on the bar across from me. “You know I love you and the family, but I’m wired differently. I want to work in my bar, binge Schitt’s Creek on Netflix, and snuggle my girlfriend on the couch without ever worrying that vampires or werewolves will poof in and rip our throats out.”
“That’s disturbingly graphic.” I make a face and watch the spent bullet hanging around his neck sway against his chest. “I get it. I’ve never been half as scared for my
self as I was for you the day you were hurt. The idea of losing someone I love—especially so soon after Brenny—is too much. I want you to be happy. I want you to be safe. This is good. Kady is a good choice.”
The relief that flashes in those mesmerizing mint green eyes of his tells me how much this has bothered him. I stretch out my arm, and we clasp hands. “Do you want me to field the question with Dillan and run block?”
“No. I’ll do it. I’m just really freaking relieved to have your blessing.”
I pick up my refilled tumbler in my free hand and raise my glass. “I’ve always got your back. That’s a basic tenet of being a bestie.”
He squeezes my hand and then straightens. “And man, I couldn’t ask for a better.”
With my tumbler in one hand and the Redbreast bottle in the other, I make my way back to the two tables we pushed together to fit our group. Aiden went home after his burger to read the kids their stories before bed, so that leaves Nikon, Dillan, Calum, Kevin, Emmet, Sloan, and me.
“Fi!” Emmet waves me in and points at my seat. “Just in time. We’ve been telling Sloan embarrassing stories about you. Dillan was starting the one about the well-hung guy who took notice of you in your life drawing class.”
My eyes bug wide and my ire rushes to the fore. “Why would you ever tell that story? Are you drunk or stupid? When have I ever set out to tarnish you in front of one of your girlfriends? If that’s the way you want to play it, you boys are going down.”
A Witch’s Revenge (Chronicles of an Urban Druid Book 4) Page 1
