~

 

“How about this?” Leslie held up a sheer black shirt that was cut way too low at the front for Vanessa’s liking.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Faith snatched it out of the air when Leslie threw it to her.

“Do you really want your sisters up front and on parade with your mate ogling them every chance that he gets?” Vanessa scoffed, and Faith scowled as she held up the shirt and inspected it.

“But, it’s pretty,” she grumbled.

“Enjoy the drool that falls from his tongue,” Vanessa muttered, and Faith huffed.

“It’s summer, and I’m not wearing a damn snowsuit. You already talked me into wearing the penguin get up to the party and look how great that turned out,” Faith huffed. “You wear a turtle neck if you want, but I want to be comfortable,” Faith nodded, sure that she wanted to wear that shirt, just… well, because.

“Vanessa’s just jealous because you have more boobs than she does,” Jeannie chuckled, resting back in the large wing backed chair and lacing her hands behind her head as she watched her friends with amusement.

“Am not,” Vanessa scowled.

“So, are too,” Faith grinned.

“Anything more than a handful is a waste,” Vanessa dismissively tossed up just one shoulder. “I have no need to haul around two large flotation devices on my chest on the off chance that one day I might be drowning and will need them.”

“The size of Faith’s bazookas could keep us all afloat,” Jeannie snorted and watched Faith place her hands on her hips and arch her back so that her ample breasts were all up front and center.

“They’re all natural, and that’s what counts,” Faith said with a little jiggle to prove her point.

“Nobody in their right mind would get their boobs pumped up that much on purpose. Let’s face it – height to boob ratio – something went wrong,” Jeannie grinned.

“Are you missing an ass?” Vanessa tugged on Faith’s habit and got her hand slapped away for her trouble.

“I will zap you,” Faith hissed.

“It must take a lot of effort not to fall forwards on your face,” Leslie chimed in.

“You too?” Faith lifted her chin in the air and floated towards the bathroom door. “I’m above all the jealousy in this room.”

“Heavy load, coming through – if she slips now she’ll impale the wall,” Jeannie teased.

“Thanks, beanpole,” Faith snorted, “at least when I stand in a corner nobody mistakes me for the coat rack.”

The heavy thud of the bathroom door slamming shut behind her made them all chuckle. Leslie turned back towards her closet.

“I think we both know that it doesn’t matter what you wear, my brother is going to drool over you,” Leslie said and tossed Vanessa a shirt that was cut only slightly higher than the last. “Hell, he came on to you when you were wearing a cloth bin liner.”

Vanessa sighed inwardly.

“You’re brother certainly wasn’t on today’s to-do list, pick up costumes, go to a boring party, walk into a bar and find my muscle-bound, arrogant, alpha mate,” she sighed outwardly.

“That gives a whole new lease of life to the tired old joke of a nun walks into a bar,” Jeannie chuckled.

“It’s certainly one for the grand-pups,” Leslie nodded.

“Grand-pups! Geez,” Vanessa shook her head in dismay. “I haven’t even dipped my toe in the mating pond yet, and you’ve got me old, gray, and surrounded by Rugrats.”

“Yes, but they’ll be your rugrats, so you’ll love them,” Jeannie chortled.

“After all of those years living with an alpha male, I’ll probably be too brain-dead to care,” Vanessa scoffed. “No offense, but your brother’s a little…”

“Male chauvinist, uptight, pig ignorant, butthead?” Leslie shrugged her shoulders and offered a little chuckle. “But now that you’re here.”

“Oh no, don’t you lay that pressure on my door, Sister,” Vanessa scowled back at her, but she just grinned.

 

~

~

~

 

“Witches,” Jason sighed at the thought as he paced back and forth in the living room that suddenly felt small enough to be considered a cage.

“Better than Nuns,” Mick said offhandedly.

He was standing over by the doorway with his arms folded across his broad chest and one shoulder propping up the wall as he watched his brother pace. That back and forth motion did little to ease the tension within him, and he was getting close to walking over and knocking his brother on his butt just to make it stop.

“I took one look at Vanessa in that costume and thought fate had gone insane,” Ryan growled.

“Hasn’t it? They’re still witches,” Jason said, tossing up a hand at the absurdity of it all, and wondering just what he’d done to deserve a witch mate.

“They’re still mates,” Mick reminded him on a scowl and another rush of annoyance, this time for his brother’s attitude.

“W-i-t-c-h-e-s,” Jason said slowly, and Mick pushed away from the wall and took a long step towards him, pointing one thick, long finger of warning at the man as he growled like a wildling.

“Boy, I’m telling you. I will punch a hole in your skull, wrench your brain out, and shake it until you become less annoying,” Mick growled the warning, and he knew that he wouldn’t do anything that desperate – but he would put his damn fist in the man’s face if he kept on.

They had mates. Sure, they were witches, but they needed to spend their time wooing them and not bitching.

“Those that can – do, those that can’t – threaten,” Clive called from somewhere outside the window.

“Do we have to have a running commentary from the damn vampire?” Jason grumbled – trying to ignore the challenge that his brother had thrown up because his sister would go bat-shit crazy wolf if they fought in the house one more time.

He was doing his best to concentrate on other things – like wooing and getting rid of Satan claws from outside.

“Now, you wanna waste your time running off the vampire?” Mick growled. “You know what? Fine, you go right ahead, and we’ll be here wooing our mates.”

“Do you see any mates to woo?” Jason shot back, expanding his arms and motioning around him.

“I see a beta that needs punching in the head,” Mick grumbled.

“Can you two stop it?” Ryan bit out.

His brothers were good for one thing, and that was fighting like two rats tied in the bottom of a sack. He was trying to listen in to the chatter that was coming from upstairs, and hoping to use anything he heard of value to figure out a way to woo a witch mate – neither of those things was going to be accomplished if his brothers didn’t put a sock in it.

“Yeah, bring your in fighting outside so I can watch,” Clive called, and the alpha groaned. “It’s getting boring out here with only the chuckle crew for company.”

“Shame you can’t get in,” Rodney said on a low deep chuckle.

Some of the pack males had gathered around the garden table, lounging on chairs and listening into the conversation that was going on inside.

“I don’t see your invite,” Clive shot back.

“I’m pack, you’re not,” Rodney scoffed.

“And yet, you’re still on the outside looking in just like the rest of us,” Clive’s tone was dry, but his eyes said he was enjoying himself.

When the alpha appeared at the window, everyone’s attention snapped in that direction. There was a low warning rumble of a growl before the alpha reached up and snapped the blind down.

“Go home,” Ryan growled.

“Now, see what you did,” Clive rolled his eyes.

“That wasn’t my fault,” Rodney shot back.

“Just go home,” Clive waved a dismissive hand in the Omega’s direction, and the shifter frowned back at him.

“You go home,” he turned his nose up with contempt for the vampire.

“You’re pack, I’m not – I don’t have to obey the Alpha's orders,” Clive pointed out, turning the man’s words back on him, and scoring a nice home run.

Boy, did he enjoy watching every male gathered there begrudgingly start to push up to their feet, grumbling, and mumbling to themselves.

“This is your fault,” Rodney growled.

“Bye-bye,” Clive gave him a small wave before he folded his arms over his chest and settled in for the night.

Nope, he wasn’t going to miss the floor show – he just wished that he’d packed a supper.