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‘Lark … I swear … if you don’t get the hell up here now and sort these witches out, my wolf is going to be feasting tonight!’

Samuel used the psychic link that connected the whole of his pack as one to call on the services of one of the elders that he knew was close by. He’d dropped the man off not more than five minutes before he’d gotten to the Inn, and for an elder that man was sprightly when he needed to be.

‘Oh, stop your yapping – can’t you handle a simple witch on a simple call out…?’

‘Sure, but I don’t think you want me to do that – not if you value pack relations with the old…’

‘Old? I heard it was Chloe’s niece that had taken over the Inn…’

‘Oh, yeah – that witch is here as well!’

‘Stop your farting around and just get the damn job done then. What? You need me to hold you darn hand?’ Lark mocked the beta.

The man was good at keeping the pack in line, and he was a damn fine plumber, but people relations, especially humans, wasn’t exactly a skill the man had learned.

Samuel bit down on his annoyance. Maybe he should have gone straight to the top and called the alpha, but he’d figured that Lark was just as batty as the old witches, and if the elder killed one of them … well…

‘Are you quaking in your fur, brother?’ Jamie chuckled, and that sound grated on his last nerve.

‘Let’s see how funny you’d find being zapped…’ Samuel growled back at his sibling.

The beta annoyed him so at times, and he’d kind of like it if the man made an appearance so that he could put his fist right in the guy’s face … it certainly would have been helpful to relieve some of the tension that he was feeling, faced with two shrews and a lock in.

‘You need Lark to come and rescue you from a couple of elders … I’m rethinking the pecking order of the pack as we speak, beta.’ His brother, Nathan, the alpha of the pack, went and put his two pennies into the pot, and Samuel felt the need to curl up and die…

‘Fine. I’ll handle them, but don’t blame me when one of them gets broken…’ Samuel growled, but he didn’t mean it.

One look at the two old ladies and his wolf growled back at him. The beast might have taken exception to the woman, but even his wold side was soft when it came to females.

“Now, what in the name of …” Lark grumbled and growled as he strolled up the hill towards them.

His weathered face was turned towards Dorothy and Angela, and his washed out pale green eyes took them in, and one grey eyebrow slowly climbed up towards his salt and pepper hairline. He felt a little spring in his step at the sight of them…

“Well, hello, young ladies…” The man practically drooled as he drawled…

“Oh God…” Samuel grumbled as he rolled his eyes skywards and prayed that something big, heavy, and fast moving, like an asteroid, or meteor would drop down and wipe him out – flatten him to a pulp – just so that he didn’t have to witness Lark getting his groove on…

“Don’t you use that tone of voice with us,” Angela bit out on a scowl that looked decidedly deadly in comparison to the bright and sunny look that Dorothy was offering the man…

“What tone would that be?” Lark grinned like the wolf that got the bunny.

“Or that smile, buster!” Angela berated him. She kind of the liked the interest that the elder was showing, but she’d stick by her friend through thick and thin.

“It’s just a smile … sweetie pie…” Lark offered back.

Samuel thought that he might just throw up his breakfast – if he did – he was aiming it right down the front of Lark’s jeans, because he hated to waste good food, and the man was making him queasy.

“Do I look like a cartoon bird to you?” Angela’s hands went to her shapely hips, and even Samuel’s wolf sounded the retreat at the sight of her…

“Wait …” Samuel looked confused. “Isn’t that Tweetie Pie?”

When Angela turned her fiery gaze onto Samuel, he held up his hands at his broad chest in surrender.

“But, sweetie pie sounds good too,” he offered back and she sneered at him, long and hard, and somehow; it just felt oh so intimidating and from an old woman to boot.

“Does your wolf have a big yellow streak down his back too?” Angela asked, and the young man growled in anger … he didn’t like that one little bit and neither did his wolf.

Lark growled back.

“Show some respect for your elders…” Lark growled.

“They’re not my elders…” Samuel scowled back.

“Then you look good for your age,” Dorothy offered with a small giggle at her own funny, and another one for when Lark brought his eyes to hers…

“Don’t look at her like that…” Angela demanded, and Lark rolled his eyes back in his head, before he turned them back towards Angela.

“Don’t talk with a tone. Don’t smile. Don’t look … can I breathe?” Lark shot back, slightly irritated with the witch. He was getting to understand where the young beta was coming from

“At your age that’s an optional extra,” Angela sneered, and her words sent both of Lark’s eyebrows shooting up his forehead.

“You’re right – she’s a mean one!” Lark grumbled towards the beta, and Samuel jumped in place as Angela’s accusing eyes turned towards him and offered him a death glare; practically daring him to say just one bad word…

“I didn’t say that…” he shrugged.

“She’s right there as well, chicken liver…” Lark growled at the beta and the man growled back.

“What’s going on out here?” Sarah demanded as she stalked out onto the porch and eyed all four of them…

If the shifters were challenging the witches, then she was going to be front and centre in defending Dorothy and Angela.

“Well, I’m about to ask these lovely ladies to have dinner with me…” Lark said; as he grinned at Dorothy and the woman blushed like a schoolgirl. “And he’s got all four paws in his mouth from being a moron.”

“Dinner sounds…”

“Like hell on wheels, a date with Satan personified…” Angela hissed out…

“Lucky I was asking one of Satan’s minions then, hmm?” Lark shot her a frown.

“How quickly he shows his true colours…” Angela shot back.

“Maybe you should both just leave…” Sarah said, but her tone of voice told the beta that it wasn’t a suggestion or a request.

“Fine, fix your own damn plumbing…” Samuel called back over his shoulder at her. “Good luck finding another plumber out here…”

“Wait, what?” Dorothy looked more than a little anxious at his words. “But, I have brown water coming from my shower…”

“Well, we can’t have that, now, can we?” Lark offered with a soothing tone that seemed to do the job just fine.

“You going to service my pipes?” Dorothy said; with something of a purr in her tone, and Lark’s eyes lit up, while all three of the others groaned at the image that kicked up.

“Please say no…” Sarah bit out…

“I don’t want that image in my head…” Samuel turned away…

“I don’t think his drain rod is up to it,” Angela offered with a dry, berating tone to her voice.

“You’d be surprised…” Lark offered back.

“Surprised, yeah, that’s one word for it – bloody amazed would be a better description,” Angela muttered as she nudged Dorothy to try to get her to stop staring, or at least, drooling over the shifter.

“And what’s your name, gorgeous?” Lark was intent on Dorothy and the woman was eating up all of that attention.

“Dorothy…” she gave him a wicked smile…

“Call me the Wizard…” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and she giggled again. “I think it’s me you’re searching for.”

“Oh my God…” Samuel muttered. He wanted to hit his head repeatedly against the side of his truck just to make everything stop and go blank…

“I’ll call you odd, I mean Oz…” Angela corrected herself and then thought for a moment. “Actually, I think I was right the first time.”

“Listen, Wiz…” Sarah called. “Stop flirting and do one.”

“You might want to rephrase that…” Samuel grimaced.

Sarah opened her mouth to speak, but then what he’d said started to sink in, and she wrinkled up her face and dropped her head forward on her neck as her shoulders slumped…

“I can’t undo that image, can I?” She groaned.

“I certainly can’t…” Nathan said as he stalked towards the group and watched the youngest witch’s head snap up as her eyes locked onto him.

Nathan felt a jolt of something deep within him…