~

“Witch in distress, beta on the floor, vampire nearby — let me guess who the culprit is?”

Lana had heard the sound of a truck, but she’d dismissed it, thinking it had turned off the road already or driven by. But, from the melodic tone of the woman’s voice, Lana didn’t have to worry about her magic being discovered by humans.

She turned to see the female vampire climbing out of a pickup truck in a graceful movement that she could never have achieved in a million years.

“And why are you looking at me?” River’s dry, crisp voice also sounded bored.

“Well, you are a vampire,” Breanna said turning a cool gaze in his direction.

“Takes one to know one,” River tossed back.

“And driving a sports car — how cliché of you,” Breanna belittled him as she walked over to Cary, placed her hands on her hips, and raised her eyebrows and a half smile at his predicament.

“At least I’m not driving a pickup truck,” River’s tone matched hers.

“When in Rome,” she said, flicking a look at River before turning her attention back to the shifter. “Just taking it easy?” she asked and got a grunt back in return.

“Well, I’ll leave you all to it,” Lana said.

She’d put the beta down on his backside and was about to turn her attention to the vampire to do the same, but now she didn’t need to. She took just one step toward her car, but the female vampire was already standing beside the open door with her keys in her hand. “Hey!”

“Not so fast,” Breanna offered her a knowing grin, and Lana had to wonder what it was that the vampire thought she knew. “Explanations first — car keys, maybe, second.”

“Okay,” Lana tossed up a shoulder, “the vampire did it.”

“I zapped the shifter, did I?” River folded his arms across his chest and raised just one eyebrow at the witch.

“Okay, the vampire made me do it,” Lana shrugged again.

“Liar — liar, witches on a bonfire,” River offered with a sneer for the woman.

“Bad witch — no keys for you,” Breanna said, and Cary grunted again.

He was starting to get the use of his body back, but speaking wasn’t something that he considered his top priority.

“Witches on a bonfire?” Lana shot him a dark glare.

“Too soon?” River offered back with a big, beaming smile for the troublesome witch.

“By a few millennia?” Lana snorted her contempt for him.

“So, why are we ganging up on the poor, helpless shifter?” Breanna shot a teasing look at Cary when the big beta pulled himself up into a sitting position and grumbled a growl of annoyance in her direction.

Breanna knew that the beta could take care of himself. But a strange witch and an even stranger vampire in town didn’t bode well for anybody, least of all her if she had to take care of the mess.

“We were bored, and it’s just so much fun,” River offered back with a small smug smile that made her want to punch him in the face.

It wasn’t that he had a particularly punchable face, in her book, it was rather a handsome face, and his eyes were sexy and sinful — a by-product of the alluring appeal of a vampire, but that didn’t make them any less sinfully seductive. But he had the attitude of a jerk, and she didn’t need any more of those in her life.

“She’s my mate,” Cary grumbled another growl and didn’t sound too happy about that as he dragged his body up to his full height and shook off the remnants of her magic.

“Oh yes, there is that as well,” River said with a small shrug.

“That’s kind of the important one — don’t you think?” Breanna berated the vampire. “It would have been kind of awkward for me if I’d ripped her heart out, drank her dry, or broke her neck.” With each image that her words put into the beta’s mind; his warning growl grew louder. “Oh, calm down — I didn’t do it, did I?”

“No, but I’m having some happy thoughts,” River offered with a blank expression and dryness to his tone that made Breanna smile, albeit inwardly.

“Stay away from my mate,” Cary growled out the warning and River decided to take a long moment to think about it.

“I’ll put a pin in that,” he offered back.

“Put a pin in it? I’ll shove it up your…” Cary growled.

“And moving on,” Breanna said. “While I love boys being boys, and all that implies, shouldn’t you be getting your mate back to pack land?”

“Oh, he tried that. It didn’t end well,” River chuckled. “I think it has something to do the fact that he is a werewolf.”

“I’m a Lycan,” Cary growled.

“Do you howl at the moon?” Lana asked.

“Yes,” he offered back with a small shrug of his shoulders, and she mirrored him.

“There you go then,” Lana said as if that proved her point.

“It’s all the same…” River thought he’d stir the pot just a little — when in the company of witches…

“Not to a Lycan,” Cary growled back.

“I’m not seeing your point,” River lied.

He knew that Lycan’s were touchy about werewolves and vice versa, and yet it was a big stick that he could beat the beta over the head with, so that was all good.

“Breanna, get me something wooden so the vampire can see the point,” Cary growled. His stance changed, he pulled himself up to his full height and flexed his muscles.

“Werewolf or Lycan, the attitude is still the same,” Lana sneered at her mate. “And an idiot is still an idiot, and just in case I was too subtle for you — you’re the idiot.”

“Oh, stings the pride, somewhat, doesn’t it?” River said.

“Don’t pick on my werewolf…” Breanna said, but the hearty growl that came from Cary made her revisit her words, and she grimaced. “I meant Lycan.”

“Isn’t this fun?” River said. “I feel like I’m making lifelong frenemies.”

“And you’re welcome to them,” Lana grumbled. She was still trying to figure out how to get her car keys back from the female vampire so she could hightail it out of there.

“Oh, stop pouting,” River berated her. “Life’s too short — not for me, but…” He shrugged.

 

~

~

 

Ava waited for the hard thud of the beta hitting the ground about ten feet away from her, and she took a moment to savor that satisfying sound. The man had disrespected and hurt her baby — her motorbike — and he’d had to pay the price for that.

The fact that he was as annoying as hell only added to the sweetness of the moment. The man was a Muppet, and in her book; he deserved everything that he got with whipped cream and a cherry on top.

Ava rushed to check on her bike, but as she bent over to pick it up; two large boots came into view. Her eyes locked onto those boots and traveled up his body — with his chin down toward his chest, his dark eyes glaring out from beneath darker eyebrows, he had a face that only a mother could love, and a look that said he was fit to kill.

Not if she got there first.