~

 

“The younger generation,” Neal said with a sigh, as he stalked the small distance towards his brother, lifted his leg, and booted the man free of the hold that he had on the door.

Lucas lay on the floor panting like he’d just run a marathon and had licked an electrical outlet for good measure.  

In his hand was the door handle that he’d managed to rip off, and there, as he looked up, was Neal standing over him; with his big arms folded across his broad chest, and smirking down at him like the cat that got the cream.

Lucas grumbled and growled as his muscles finally started to relax.

“Smooth move, junior.”

“Why didn’t you just run head first into the door – at least it might have woken your two brain cells up?” The alpha offered on a small chuckle at his brother’s expense.

Lucas shook off the last of the magic, yanked his upper body upwards, and tossed the door handle over his shoulder.

“You’re repairing that,” Neal grumbled.

The beta pushed up to his full height once more and faced off against his brother.

“Out of my way…” the man growled.

Lucas was done playing nice. He was determined to get that damn door open and his mate out of there if it was the last thing that he did.

Neal dropped his arms and stepped aside. Then he motioned for his brother to give it his best shot.

Lucas drew in a deep breath and dropped his chin towards his chest. His eyes snapped towards the door of the pod, and his body followed – rushing at it like a bull in a china shop, and hitting it as hard as he could with the full weight of his body; all centered in his left shoulder.

He hit the door, and it felt like the door hit him back. He bounced back off, and unable to keep his footing on the slippery earth; he ended up flat on his back in the mud once more.

Neal roared with laughter as the alpha groaned again. Griffin lifted his hands and started a slow, taunting clap.

“Not exactly your damn head, but still amusing,” Griffin offered.

Lucas lifted his head and eyed the door. There wasn’t even a splinter out of place. He groaned and dropped his head back against the mud.

“I guess we wait them out,” Neal said, sniggering at his brother’s misfortune and turning back towards the pods. “Unless you wanna get the truck in here and lift the pods onto the back of it?”

“With them inside?” Griffin growled. “I’m surrounded by idiots.”

“Tomorrow morning that field over there is going to be crawling with people setting up for the summer festival,” Neal reminded the alpha and watched as realization crept in, and he grimaced at the thought of it.

Not only was he mate-less and standing in a field of mud with the prospect of spending the night in the rain, but tourists and townies alike would be trampling all over pack land come sunrise.

He had to wonder what else could go wrong.

“You could burn them out, after all, they are witches,” Percival announced, and all three brothers turned on their heels, growling warnings, and eyeing the vampire like he was their next tasty meal. “Or not.”

“They’re our mates,” Lucas growled.

“My commiserations,” Percival offered back, and then he frowned. “Wait … I guess that means our deal for my help in return for a tasty snack is off the table?”

Griffin took one long step towards him. His wolf was pushing forward, ready, and more than willing to take a bite of the vampire should the man set one more foot closer to the pods and the witches inside.

“Understood.” Percival shrugged his broad shoulders. “That means you still owe me payment, as I dragged my backside out into the rain and mud for you – and I do so hate the rain.”

Percival’s smug expression annoyed Griffin even more than the man’s words had.

Sure, he’d promised that the man could feed and make the tourists forget what they’d seen, and he’d have to come up with another solution for the vampire’s troubles, but right there and then – he had the urge to kill him and make all of their troubles disappear.

 

~

~

~

 

It had been a long night that saw all three brothers prowling and stalking around the pods as the rain drizzled down around them. Each man did his fair share of circling around the pod containing his mate. When the sunlight broke over the mountain beyond, and the sound of engines in the distance signalled that humans were up and about for another day – all three of them knew that their mates would either have to come out eventually, or they’d have to get inside … one way or the other.

“Griffin…” Neal bit out in annoyance at the sound of those engines getting closer and closer to pack land.

The alpha groaned inwardly at that sound. He remembered what his brother had told him about the town turning out for the summer fair, and he hated fairs, the townies, humans in general, and the damn stupid church for putting the thing on every year – all in one fail swoop.

“Call it off…” Griffin growled at Neal, and the man’s head pulled back on his neck as he gave his Alpha something of a shocked look.

“Have you met Father Ted?” Neal demanded, knowing full well that his brother had indeed met the man of the cloth.

“Call it off…” Griffin said again – his growl getting deeper.

“Again … have you met Father Ted…?” Neal tossed back.

“Fine,” Griffin growled longer and harder. “I’ll do it.”

Griffin knew that if he wanted something done right then, he was better off doing it himself. He turned on his heels and stalked away from the pods and towards the next field.

His eyes took in the sight of the cars that were pulling into the small parking bays just off the road. Blocking in their truck and the witches’ car that was already parked there, and he snapped his eyes towards the large carnival trucks bringing all sorts of mini stalls and rides that were following up the roadway.

He knew that in ten or so hours; the roads around the back fields would be blocked with metal barriers.

At least, for now, the witches couldn’t make a run for their car under cover of the humans, because even if they did – they had nowhere to go. 

He spotted Father Ted sitting up front in the passenger seat of one of his parishioner’s cars, and the man gave a hearty wave and grinned like a madman. He felt his heart drop into his stomach, and he hated to guess where his stomach had dropped too.

All of those happy smiling faces taunted him. Pressed his stupid, damn guilt button and made him feel like the biggest heel in the world for what he was about to do.

“Good morning, Griffin.” Father Ted announced with glee and cheeks so rosy that they looked as if they’d been warmed by the fireplace on a cold winter’s night – in truth, the good Father like a sip or two of the hard stuff, but only to ward off the cold. “Bad weather yesterday, but I think it’s cleared up nicely.”

“The field is like swampland, Father,” Griffin said by way of an apology and using it as an excuse for what he was about to tell him.

“Oh, it’ll be fine,” the Father answered with a spring in his step, and he rubbed his hands together against the early morning chill. “People pay a fortune to go to those music festivals and get covered in mud – we’re doing it for free.”

“I think health and safety might have…” Griffin started again.

“Ah, if you don’t tell them, I surely won’t,” The Father said with a twinkle in his eyes and a mischievous way about him, and Griffin knocked the need that he felt within him to growl at the older man on the head with a big Acme hammer.

“But what if people get hurt?”

“I have faith that won’t happen, Griffin.”

“But, Father…”

“Ah, come now, son. Let’s get this party under way.”

“But…” Griffin really did want to growl, just not a man of the cloth.

“It was nice of you and your brothers to show up and help us, so it was…” The priest said the Irish lilt in his voice was unmistakable, and it seemed to get stronger the more than man wanted to run rings around him.

Griffin shot a sideways glance at his brothers. Both men were standing there with their arms folded. They had big old, smug grins on their faces, and Griffin wanted to plant the both of them head down in the mud with their legs in the air.

“That’s…” Griffin scowled at his brothers. If one of them so much as chuckled…

“Yes?” Father Ted raised his bushy eyebrows and waited. The man didn’t need to say anymore, because he knew that he’d already won the battle of the blarney.

“That’s what good neighbors do for one another, Father.” Griffin bit out, sighing inwardly, and knowing that he was never going to hear the end of it from his kin.

“So it is, Griffin. If only more people would be as neighborly as your family.” Father Ted slapped him on the arm and frowned at the iron muscle that stung his fingers. “You’ve been working out, good-good, that’ll do the trick when it comes to the heavy lifting.” The father said as he stalked off towards the other cars and vans that were arriving.

“Shoot me now,” Griffin growled long and hard on whispered tones towards his brothers.

Each man smirked, but neither made a sound.

“This way, Griffin. You can start offloading the framework for the stalls – if you wouldn’t mind. I don’t think we can ask the Widow Patterson to do all the hard lifting today.” Father Ted beamed a smile at the widow, and the old woman beamed back.

Griffin wondered if vomiting on the priest’s feet then and there would be classed as a sin.

“You told him, Griffin.” Lucas bit out, as he gave his Alpha a wide berth and started towards the truck.

“You and me – later…” Griffin growled back.

“And where’s your Christian spirit to turn the other cheek, alpha?” Lucas tossed back over his shoulder.

“Right beside my sense of humor and my halo that I’m going to shove up your…” Griffin grumbled back.

It was only the crack of dawn, and he already wished that the day was over.