Supper at the diner

Oliver rejoined Amethyst and Kerr from his walk-about in the mountain meadow as they entered the busy diner. The three sat in a corner booth and ordered. From the time they’d entered, the patrons cast curious glances at their table.

“Feels like we’re the center ring of a three-ring circus.” Oliver muttered between bites of a grilled tuna and cheese sandwich which Amethyst had cut into kitty-sized pieces.

“Ignore them.” Kerr hissed at one particularly nosy local hanging over the side of their booth.

“Why in the Goddess’s green earth are they interested in us?” Amethyst took a bite of the best hamburger she’d ever eaten. Yanks knew their red meat, that was for bloody sure. Plus, the sandwich had bacon and bleu cheese on it. Yummy. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“What Kerr is afraid to tell you is … the locals are looking for the evidence of a completed mating.” Oliver blinked slowly. “As two-natured, their animal sides smell what Kerr and I smell—and you can’t. The natural result of such strong pheromones is the mating bite mark. They don’t see it. They don’t smell your blended scents. So, they’re speculating on what’s taking so long.”

“One, I just met the man. Two” —she focused on her burger, picking off the extra lettuce and wondered if it would be improper to ask for more pickles— “it’s Kerr’s and my personal business, and three, why would they care?”

Oliver placed a paw on her arm. “Um … it’s a small town. The people have nothing better to do. You two are the entertainment du jour … much better than the satellite telly they probably can’t even get here most days.”

Kerr nodded. “Oliver’s right. We’re the hot topic along with the theft of the artifact. We’ll be old news by tomorrow. Don’t let them bother you. How’s your burger?”

Feeling a tad bit overwhelmed by all the gazes focused on her, Amethyst gratefully accepted the change in subject. “I’d fecking marry this burger if I could.”

With a firm two-fisted grip—because the burger was huge—she took another large bite and chewed. The bleu cheese and grease from the bacon and beef dripped down her fingers, and she didn’t care. It was comfort food, and she needed some bloody comfort at that moment.

Why on earth would critical looks from complete strangers bother her so much? And they were judging her—she could feel the pressure from their emotions beating on her senses. Plus, while Oliver’s explanation of what was going on was neutral on the surface, she knew her cat. Her familiar was disappointed over her lack of full commitment to Kerr—and that hurt. Oliver, of anybody, should have known how her past colored her present—and why she was so cautious.

“Ammy, ignore them all. Take your time.” Kerr leaned over and wiped her chin with his napkin, then gave her mouth a little kiss. “Delicious.” I adore the taste of your lips. I adore you. I could kiss you for hours.

Amethyst blushed and didn’t respond. She wasn’t sure how to reply. Kerr hadn’t really pressured her at all about the mating.

What man does that? Not any she’d ever met.

Amethyst grabbed a sweet potato tater tot—who’d come up with such decadent goodness?—dipped it in the spicy catsup, and plopped it into her mouth. It was an orgasmic experience. Yeah, Yanks knew how to eat.

Kerr grinned and shook his head. I’ll have to show you what a truly orgasmic experience is, for comparison.

Okay, now that was more like a normal guy—taking an innocent remark, or thought in this case, and making it sexual. She shot him a narrow-eyed glare.

The man had the audacity to wink at her and then snagged two of her tots for himself.

Don’t double-dip in my catsup, she warned.

Kerr laughed. Never. I promise.

Oliver looked from Amethyst to Kerr and back again. “Are you two mind-talking? Is it about sex stuff?”

Kerr gave Oliver’s ears a scratch. “Yes. None of your business. Eat your tuna and cheese.”

As the three of them ate, the diner became more crowded, so much so a line had formed out the door. Most of the faces were new to Amethyst since they hadn’t attended the barbeque.

Soon, it became evident the newcomers had come to check her out. The focused stares now turned to whispering. The Assjacket version of the old party game of Telephone ensued wherein the barbeque attendees clued in the non-attendees on what was what.

Having excellent hearing, Amethyst picked up the gist of the whispers. They began innocuously enough—“she’s the witch from England” and “she brought a special artifact that was stolen.” Then progressed to variations of—“she will be or she is Kerr’s mate” and the odd mention of “her fiancé arrived and challenged Kerr to a duel and now the fiancé is missing.” Finally ended with the ridiculous—“she used Merlin’s Foreskin and now Kerr is her sex slave twenty-four-seven.”

That last “telephone message” was passed along to Kerr with malicious glee by the nosy man in the next booth, during dessert.

Kerr burst out laughing. Oliver chortled, his tubby body shaking like a bowl full of blancmange.

“It’s not funny.” Amethyst’s cheeks burned hotly. Upset by all the unwanted attention, by the pressure coming at her from all sides, her throat tightened. She couldn’t swallow, couldn’t breathe. She ceased eating the decadently delicious American concoction called sugar cream pie and glared at her dining companions. “It’s … it’s … tacky!”

“Oh, bloody hell,” muttered Oliver. “Not good.”

The diner had gone silent at her shout. Goddess, how embarrassing.

“Ammy.” Kerr reached for her hand, which she pulled out of reach. “Darlin’, it was a stupid and ridiculous comment. I laughed because they all should know better.” He snorted. “If anyone’s going to be a sex slave twenty-four-seven, it wouldn’t be me.”

The implication?—it would be her? Was that what he meant? Was Kerr just like all those men Mildred had thrown at her? Had she been wrong about him being different? Was she that poor a judge of character?

“Ixnay, boy.” Oliver batted some cheese at Kerr which hit him on the chest.

“Bloody-buggering hell.” Amethyst was sick to her stomach. Her heart hurt. “You … you … furry-arsed twit.” She stood up and stormed out of the diner before the tears gathering in her eyes fell.

“Oh, hell. Ammy … I didn’t…” Kerr shouted. “Wait!”

Oliver, on her heels, shouted, “Don’t worry, boy. I’ll talk to her.”

Amethyst stomped down the street. To hell with all males—warlocks and Shifters alike. To hell with her damn familiar, too. Damn felines sticking together and ganging up on her. Finally, to hell with the citizens of Assjacket. As if she needed all this pressure when she was trying to make the most important decision in her life.

Oliver caught up with her just as she reached the end of Main Street and took the path that led to Mac and Zelda’s. “Now listen up, missy. You’re over-reacting. Kerr is a dominant male who has a certain standing in this community. So, the thought that he might sublimate his dominance to anyone else, especially a little bit of fluff like you, is, in a word, ridiculous. So, he and I laughed, because it was funny.”

Amethyst stopped and glared at her familiar. “So? I should just let people think I’d be some sort of bimbo sex slut?”

Oliver paused in mid-lick of a paw. “First, no Shifter would ever believe that, because sex is not something dirty or to be ashamed of and is frequent and spontaneous between mates. And, second, Kerr didn’t say you’d be a sex slave twenty-four-seven, he merely said he wouldn’t be one.”

Amethyst replayed the scene in her head.

Sweet Blessed Goddess, Oliver was correct. She groaned. She’d heard what she expected to hear, not what Kerr actually said or meant. Using her past experiences with men, she’d leapt to an erroneous conclusion.

Kerr had been nothing but honest and trustworthy since she met him. She owed him an explanation and an apology. But she couldn’t walk back in the diner—not now, not with all those people who’d witnessed her loss of control.

Oliver slitted his eyes. “Yeah, you owe the man all that, plus, an answer.”

“I know.” Amethyst paced back and forth in front of her familiar. “Bloody hell, I’m a mess. I want to stay with Kerr and see where this all goes. He’s wonderful. But I’m not sure what I have to offer him. I can’t cook. I find cleaning boring. I know nothing about babies—they terrify me. My magic doesn’t heal or create, so I have nothing to offer the community at large. I’m afraid I’ll be a big disappointment to him.”

Oliver hissed and shook his head. “Now, listen to me, Amethyst Sophia St. John. A Shifter male searches his whole life, praying to the Goddess, to find the one female to complete him. You are that one for Kerr. I am bloody darn sure Kerr could not care less about your cooking and cleaning skills. And babies, you’ll learn.”

Amethyst brushed away the tears wetting her cheeks and sniffed. Could Oliver be right?

“Of course, I’m right,” he sniffed. “All Kerr wants is to protect and love you for the rest of your lives. Plus, who cares what other people think about you? Kerr is the only one who matters … well, him and me.”

Amethyst’s lips twisted in a slight smile. Damn smarty cat.

Amethyst resumed walking toward Mac and Zelda’s house. So, why had the Assjacket locals’ stupid suppositions about her and Kerr bothered her so much?

Then the answer hit her—because Kerr was more important than any of her previous relationships.

“Good girl. I knew you could figure it out.” Oliver kept pace with her. “Kerr’s your chance at a future filled with happiness and family. That bobcat will put you, and any children you have above everything, including himself. You’ll never find a warlock willing to do that, because all those bleeding arseholes are stuck on themselves.”

“Yes. You’re right.” Amethyst turned away from the road that would take her to Mac and Zelda’s. “I need to… walk … need to deal with the past shit that is messing with my head and bury it for good before I talk to Kerr. That good man shouldn’t have to deal with my emotional baggage.”

“Amethyst, Kerr wants to deal with your baggage,” Oliver pointed out.

Pausing, she snorted and shook her head. “I don’t understand that. I know it’s true. But, you know me. I still need to work through things for myself.” She bent down and scratched under Oliver’s chin. “Go back to the house and take your post-prandial nap, my dear friend. If you see Kerr, tell him I’ll be back once I’ve got my head together.”

“Maybe I should go with you to cover your arse,” Oliver said. “You’re a little out of your element here in the wild.”

“I’ll be fine. No one will hurt me here.” Because anyone harming her would have to deal with Kerr.

The thought caused a warm, gooey feeling deep inside as she accepted the realization that Kerr would take on Lucifer and all his minions to protect and defend her. And she’d do the same for him, because he was hers, just as she was his.

“Go.” She shooed Oliver away with a wave of her hand, then headed for a path which led to the river she’d seen from Raisa’s aerie. The sound of the water rushing over rocks called to her—would soothe her and help clear her mind. She needed to be ready to give Kerr her answer when he tracked her down—and he would track her down, because he cared.

And she cared for him. More than cared. Over the last day, Kerr had already imprinted on her. Her body already clamored for his nearness. She felt stronger, happier, and safer with him close by. She loved him.

Her heart swelled with emotion and tears of joy gathered in the corners of her eyes. He truly was her other half, the one man in the whole world who’d even out her highs and lows, who’d be there to catch her when she fell and rejoice when she soared. All the other issues—her emotional baggage, leaving her job and the country of her birth, her lack of homemaking skills—could be worked out.

Her future was in Assjacket with Kerr. Primal instincts, heavily supplemented by the Goddess magic in their connection, had carried the day. So … she’d walk for a bit, calm down, and then go find Kerr and give him her answer. Give him her love.

* * *

Kerr shoved through the diner crowd to go after Ammy. She’d misunderstood his words, taken them in a way he hadn’t meant at all. Damn his warped sense of humor and big mouth.

Ardie caught him at the door. “Kerr…”

He frowned at the lone wolf. “Don’t have time now, Ardie. I need to get to Ammy. She thinks I disrespected her, and I’d never do that. Damn it, she could transport away, refuse to ever see me again.”

“She won’t leave.” Ardie followed Kerr outside. Both men flared their noses and flicked their tongues, scenting the air.

“She’s heading for Mac’s place,” Ardie said. “The fat cat’s with her.”

“Yeah.” Kerr jogged in that direction. “She’s probably going to say good-bye to Mac and Zelda.”

“I told you she won’t.” Ardie trotted beside him. “I watched you two while I was ordering take-out at the counter. I smelled her arousal. She looked at you all the time. Leaned toward you. Body language, facial expressions, and scent don’t lie. She wants you. Maybe not as much as you want and need her, but the seeds are there.”

“She isn’t sold on the mating, Ardie.” Kerr looked at the rangy male. “If she leaves me, I’ll never take another female again.”

Ardie snorted. “Been living that reality my entire adult life … until last night.”

Staying on Ammy’s scent trail, Kerr cast a glance at Ardie. “What happened last night? Did you take the artifact?”

“Hell no.” Ardie snarled at Kerr. “I ain’t no thief—the artifact visited me.”

“What?” Kerr stopped, torn between getting to Ammy as fast as possible and begging her to forgive his stupid mouth or doing his damn job. But if he could solve the mystery of the missing artifact here and now, he could then concentrate on Ammy to the exclusion of everything else. He pulled out his phone and dialed Mac.

“Mac? Ammy’s on her way to your place. She’s pissed at me. Keep her there. I’m on my way, but just got a lead on that artifact. … How? I don’t give a flying fuck. Just don’t let her transport away. Have Fabio and Zelda bind her magically or something. Thanks, Mac.” Shutting off the call, he turned to Ardie. “Walk and talk. Now, tell me about the artifact. How did it visit you?”

“Got me. It was just there. Scared the shit out of me.” Ardie shook his head. “I’d just got home. You know how I roam the area hunting for my mate, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” All single male Shifters searched for their perfect mate whenever they could—it was a prime imperative to find their soul mate and procreate.

“Well, when I entered my den, the purple penis-thing was there—floating in the air over my kitchen table. The dang thing was glowing, and … it, uh … spoke to me.” Ardie looked at Kerr, wonder in his eyes. “It asked me what my greatest desire was. I said to find my mate and have a family.” The wolf shook his head. “The glow got bigger and bigger until it surrounded me. Then the artifact disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” Kerr wondered if Ardie had begun drinking to drown his need for a mate.

“Poof!” Ardie threw his hands in the air. “One second it was there, the next it wasn’t. Must’ve been part of the artifact’s magic, right?”

“Hell if I know. I’ll ask Ammy when I catch up with her.” Kerr kept moving, scenting the air as he walked to make sure Ammy hadn’t changed direction. “So, what happened after that?”

Ardie beamed with happiness. “I went to bed and then had a dream that my mate lived in a holler over by the Ohio border, near Williamson. I went there early this morning. Covered two hollers before I scented her.” Awe sounded in Ardie’s voice. “I found her, Kerr. My mate! Her name is Maisie, and she’s perfect.”

“Congratulations, man!” Kerr clapped him on the back. “Did you bring her back with you?”

A sly wolfish grin twisted Ardie’s lips. “Yeah. Maisie’s at my den, resting. She took my bite as easily as you’d please—well, after first shifting and leading me on a merry chase all over her fucking holler and back. I was in town to pick up some supper for my exhausted mate when the drama between you and Ammy happened. I hope your woman takes your bite, Kerr. You two smell right together.”

“I hope so, too. Go get your food.” Kerr gave Ardie a mock salute. “Take care of your Maisie.”

“Planning on it.” Ardie waved and headed back toward town as Kerr began a fast jog toward Mac’s place. He’d traveled another hundred yards when Ammy’s scent veered off the beaten path. He stopped and scented carefully to make sure he hadn’t made a mistake.

“Yo, Kerr.” Oliver came out of some bushes and walked over to him, then sat on his furry rump. “Our witch decided to walk by the river to calm down and collect her thoughts.”

Kerr looked at the pudgy familiar. “Why in the hell didn’t you go with her?”

“She told me not to.” Oliver sniffed. “So, I hung around to intercept you. Go get her, boy. I softened her up for you. She’s 99.9 percent ready to take your mark. A little nookie and some post-sex cuddling should seal the deal.”

Relief almost drove Kerr to his knees. “Thanks, Oliver. I’ll be taking her to my place. Ask Mac for directions. You’ll be living with us, of course.”

Oliver sniffed, flicking his tail imperiously. “Of course, I will. Where my witch goes, I go. Plus, I’ll be a great babysitter for the little ones when they come along.”

Kerr smiled at the image of Ammy with their babies.

Oliver sighed happily. “I’ll be Uncle Oliver, and those kids will have so much fun.” He rubbed against Kerr’s leg. “A family. We’ll be a family. Go get our witch. I’ll give you several days alone before I move my caviar supply in.”

Kerr laughed. “Thanks, buddy.”

Oliver would be a great asset in his and Ammy’s life. A built-in babysitter so he and Ammy could have date nights. Plus, he liked the little guy’s snark.

But before any of that could happen, he had to track Ammy down, tell her he loved her, and seal the deal.