Later that same day, Assjacket, West Virginia

The autumn afternoon was sunny with a cool bite to the light breeze. A perfect Indian Summer day in early November in the Appalachians of West Virginia. Standing on his boss Mac’s front porch, bobcat Shifter Kerr Montgomery inhaled deeply. The smell of rain to come was in the air, probably later this evening, definitely before morning. His animal instincts urged him to shift and roam the wooded mountainside and hunt before the cold front forced all the prey into their winter habitats.

“No, you can’t hunt,” muttered Mac, standing next to him. “If I can’t, you can’t. Zelda would zap our butts if we left.” Mac was a wolf Shifter and the king of all Shifters in this part of the country. His beautiful mate Zelda was a witch and the Shifter Whisperer, the healer for the Shifters in the Assjacket area.

“I’ve got shit to do, Mac. How long do we have to wait for this high muckety-muck?” As one of Mac’s enforcers and his head criminal investigator, Kerr could be tracking down the sneak thief who’d been stealing ladies’ underwear rather than waiting on some ambassador from Assjacket’s sister city in England.

Sister city? Who thought of this shit? He snorted. Sounded like a load of diplomatic bullcrap.

“As long as it takes. Now, stop fidgeting,” Mac murmured. “Or Zelda will think you have palsy or something and try to heal you.”

Kerr eyed Zelda standing several feet away, talking to her father Fabio, a sartorially elegant warlock.

“I’d have to be in my animal form for that to happen,” he replied. “And I ain’t gonna shift.”

“My Zelda has ways,” Mac warned. “Don’t push it.”

Heck no, he wouldn’t. He’d rather avoid Zelda’s healing magic, if at all possible. The witch didn’t understand her own strength; it was like using a neutron bomb to stop a fistfight. The last time Zelda had healed Kerr, his ears had rung for days.

“Where is this guy? And why in the hell do we need a fricking sister city?” groused Kerr.“Booby Yumpy’s idea, and so we live with it,” Zelda said, proving she could hear a Shifter even when they muttered. “You have nothing to complain about. I’d planned on a spa day.” She sounded a tad bit grumpy. “My first since the twins were born. I was freaking looking forward to it.”

“So was I.” Mac sent Zelda a scorching hot glance. “You always smell like an exotic fruit salad afterwards. Makes me want to eat you all up.”

Zelda returned Mac’s lust-filled look, and the atmosphere heated up, evidence of the strength of their mate bond.

A pang of envy pierced Kerr’s heart. Mac had found what every red-blooded male Shifter—no matter the animal species—wanted: A mate.

“My darling daughter,” Fabio said, a reproving tone in his voice. “Please stop calling Carol names. Her title is Baba Yaga.”

“Whatever,” Zelda said. “Dad, why are we the lucky town that has to go first in this sister city shit fest?”

“Because Carol loves me. Loved your Aunt Hildy, and as Hildy’s successor, loves you.” Fabio ignored his daughter’s inelegant huff and Mac’s stifled chuckle. “Carol wants the world’s covens to share information and be prepared to present a unified front in case our existence is ever revealed to humans.”

A day that would never happen if Kerr, Mac, and others like them had any say. Outing the witches would be bad enough. It would merely be the first step in revealing the existence of the paranormal species living in the vicinity of the covens. Humans had a long history of persecuting and killing anything or anyone that scared them.

Not happening on Kerr’s watch.

“Mostly, Ba-ba-ba Yaga-Ann wants to jack us around because she can,” Zelda concluded.

“That, too.” Fabio grinned, his green eyes flashing. “My Carol does love to keep her witches on their toes.”

By reputation, Baba Yaga was one scary witch, and Kerr, for one, would never think of crossing her.

An unnatural shift in atmospheric pressure applied force on every square inch of Kerr’s body. A crackle of green lightning struck the edge of the clearing that made up Mac’s front yard, followed quickly by a boom of thunder. All were signs of a powerful witch’s approach.

The magic looked and felt a lot like Baba Yaga’s, but then again, not.

There was something delicate contained within the heated vortex heading their way. An unfamiliar magic that was like nothing Kerr had ever scented. It smelled like ancient verdant forests … and peaches and cream. And how in the hell Kerr recognized what primeval forests smelled like, he didn’t know. But he definitely knew and loved peaches and cream.

Kerr inhaled deeply and then salivated. Yum. The scent had his cock hardening to the point of pain. His heart pounded wildly against his ribs. His animal-side clamored to emerge and chase down the delicious smell even as his primal brain screamed, “Mine.”

“Carol’s mine,” Fabio shouted and shot Kerr one of the deadliest glares he’d ever seen from the normally easy-going warlock.

Kerr jerked. “Know that, man. Wasn’t referring to her. The mine I referred to smells like peaches and cream—”

His nonsensical explanation was cut off by a monstrous whirlwind the colors of a summer storm. When the windstorm finally dissipated, Baba Yaga stood, wearing 1980s rejects from the Burning Man festival and holding a gaudy purple glass—dildo?—in one small fist.

Standing next to the leader of the world’s witches was the source of the delicious scent. His mate. Shock, joy, gratitude, and love swamped his senses. And she was a witch. Who would’ve thought?

“Ahh, I see.” Fabio smiled. “Congratulations, man. She’s beautiful.”

No, his mate was gorgeous … and tiny, just topping five feet. For all her fragile petiteness, she possessed a curvy figure—a Pocket Venus. Her hair was a mass of glossy black curls that went halfway down her back. Her eyes were the color of drenched violets and surrounded by long, dark lashes. Her skin was flawless and creamy. Best of all, she smelled … perfect.

And all mine.

But if all that hadn’t already been the perfect package, her magic would’ve tipped the scales. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced—plus, it instantly recognized him, reaching for him, stroking over his skin like thousands of little fingers.

Kerr rumbled a deep, hungry purr, causing Mac and Zelda to shoot narrowed glances his way.

Oblivious to how she affected him, his little witch looked around, a curious but dazed expression on her face. When she paled and began to sway to and fro, Kerr rushed to her side and caught her just as her knees gave way.

Gathering her up against his chest, he carried her the short distance to Mac’s front porch. He sat in one of the Adirondack chairs and cuddled her on his lap.

“Amethyst?” Baba Yaga approached, a concerned look on her face. “Are you okay, chica?”

Amethyst. A beautiful name, but too formal for these parts. He’d call her Ammy.

“I’m fine.” Ammy’s voice was low and throaty, a Siren’s voice that called to his randy cock.

Kerr clenched his jaw and mentally went through the steps to field-strip his rifle and when that didn’t calm his unruly dick, he began on multiplication tables.

As he assiduously worked to ignore the sweet ass wiggling on his lap and the delectable scent surrounding him, Ammy turned her head, her glorious violet gaze seeking him.

“Thank you for catching me. I’m … um, not used to transporting at supersonic speeds. My transport speed is more like a two-seater Cessna.”

“You’re welcome, darlin’.” Kerr chuckled. His little witch had a sense of humor—just another thing to like about her. “Welcome to Assjacket. Kerr Montgomery at your service. You need anything while you’re visiting our fine town, you call me.”

“A pleasure to meet you … Kerr.” Ammy blushed and gave him a shy smile that made him want to protect her and slay dragons for her. “Um … you can let me go now.”

No, he couldn’t. He might never let her go. He’d carry her everywhere, keeping her in his arms so all the horny males, even now gathering in Mac’s front yard for the party to celebrate the sister city presentation, knew she belonged to him.

Better yet, Kerr would carry her to his log home deep in the woods, take her to bed, lick her all over, make love to her … give her the bite that would mark her as his and his alone. Even then, if he thought he could get away with it, he’d hide her away so no other male could even look at her or, worse, touch her.

But that was Kerr’s primal animal side talking. His somewhat more rational, but not by much, human side realized Ammy wouldn’t stand for any of it. She’d want—no, deserved—to be courted before accepting him.

A day should do it.

“Kerr?” Ammy wiggled in his lap. “Let go.”

Stifling a groan as her butt rubbed over his needy cock, Kerr stroked a wayward dusky curl off her cheek. “You sure you’re okay to stand?”

Her gaze went dreamy at his touch, and her whispered “yes” seemed distracted. And she didn’t move to leave his lap.

That was okay by him.

A smile curved his lips. The connection between them was strong. Both of them pumped mating pheromones into the air like an erupting volcano. Just as his body had instinctively reacted to Nature’s call to mate, so had hers.

Ammy’s eyes dilated. She licked her lips. Her breaths came in rapid little puffs. Plus, her unique, mouth-watering scent grew stronger as each second passed and was now underlaid with the heady feminine musk of her arousal.

Her primitive brain recognized him—strong male to her fertile female. Unfortunately, Ammy wasn’t a Shifter female who’d lie down and present her neck for him to bite. She was a modern-day witch with a large amount of power. Kerr would have to convince her rational mind that the Goddess had selected them to be together. Once she accepted that given, learned she could trust him, then he’d claim her, care for and protect her, in this life and the next.

“Amethyst,” Baba Yaga called. “Now that you’ve met Kerr”—the older witch eyed Kerr’s arm around Ammy’s waist and smiled—“up close and personal, I’d like you to meet your host and hostess, Mac and Zelda. And my hot honey Fabio. You’ll be staying with Mac and Zelda during your visit. Everyone,” Baba included the crowd now gathered in Mac’s yard, “this is Amethyst Sophia St. John, a very talented witch who curates the United Kingdom’s Magical Artifacts Library.”

Mac, Zelda, and Fabio’s hellos were drowned out by the greetings from the locals.

“Hello, everyone.” Ammy struggled to get off Kerr’s lap. “Kerr, please let me up.”

Kerr wanted to curse Baba Yaga for interrupting this perfect, but all too short, interlude with his mate-to-be with diplomatic clap-trap. He tried to let Ammy go, but his animal had dug in his claws and refused. “I can’t. Just can’t. Sorry.”

“What do you mean you can’t?” Ammy grabbed hold of his shoulder, possibly to gain leverage. Instead, her fingers flexed into his muscles, then she smoothed her hand down his shirt, almost petting him.

He rumbled another purr.

She hummed a low sound of approval, and her scent grew ever stronger with her arousal.

Goddess, she was perfect.

“Please … Kerr … um, this isn’t like me,” she whispered against his neck.

Get used to it, darlin’.

“What did you say?” Her voice sounded adorably confused.

His animal purred. Their mate could hear their mind-talk, proving the bond was even stronger than mere seconds ago. Soon, even Ammy would begin to acknowledge their connection—she wouldn’t be able to help herself. Nature would have its way.

“Nothing, darlin’. Easy now. Let’s make sure you’re steady.” He gently eased Ammy off his lap until her feet touched the porch and then released his hold. He stood and remained within arm’s reach. The crowd had far too many males—and all of whom, Kerr swore, were looking at his Ammy.

When Ammy moved away from him, he instantly closed the distance. She frowned at him.

He shook his head and muttered, “Stay close.” He placed a hand on her lower back, guiding her toward where Zelda and Mac stood on the large porch.

Ammy sniffed and turned away, dismissing his presence, to speak to Zelda.

Mac came to stand on Kerr’s other side. A scowl on his face, his boss used mind-talk to ask, What in the hell’s going on with you?

She’s my mate.

Kerr kept Ammy in his peripheral vision as Zelda introduced several locals to her. He snarled under his breath as Dale, a one-antlered deer Shifter and a bachelor, smiled … no, leered at Ammy. He’d have to watch that ragweed-eating excuse for a Bambi, for sure. Then he stiffened as Ardolf, a lone wolf, sidled closer and sniffed Ammy’s hair.

Kerr hissed out a warning. Ardie startled and put space between him and Ammy.

Hell, Ardie never came to town—so why today? Had the wolf scented Ammy? If the mangy mutt thought—

Mac cuffed Kerr on the back of the head. Eyes here, idiot. Are you sure?

Kerr shifted his gaze to Mac, then growled. Hell yeah.

Mac held up his hands. Okay, man, back off. Happy for you. But you can’t kill Dale or Ardie or any of the single males until after you mark her as yours. Right now, she’s unclaimed.

Kerr showed his sharp canines. She’s mine. Now. If these yahoos had sniffed around Zelda before you bit her, you’d—

Have torn their throats out and cut off their junk. Mac clapped a hand on Kerr’s shoulder in a show of brotherly Shifter solidarity. Mating is hell—then it’s heaven. My advice? Don’t dawdle.

Okay, half a day courtship at most.

While he and Mac had been mind-talking, Baba Yaga had been addressing the crowd.

“…and the ceremony presenting the magical artifact within this specially warded reliquary…”

Baba Yaga held up what Kerr had thought was a glass sex aid—because carrying around a sex toy as an accessory was just the kind of half-assed stunt the older witch would do. He’d just figured Baba Yaga was ready to shift to the ’90s Madonna of the Sex coffee table book.

“…will be held immediately after the barbeque feast Mac and Zelda are hosting for the residents of Assjacket,” Baba Yaga said. “At that time, Amethyst will relay the history of Merlin’s Foreskin and answer questions.”

“Merlin’s Foreskin?” A high, thin, and overly excited voice exclaimed.

Kerr turned and found Roger, a rabbit Shifter, Assjacket’s resident sex therapist, and the set designer for the local community theater. Roger was also known for his porn addiction. Kerr usually had no issues with Roger and his perversions; the man was essentially harmless. But at the moment, Kerr didn’t like the look on Roger’s face or his tone of voice. Both were acquisitive, and that covetousness was aimed at Ammy—and at the dildo, which wasn’t a dildo, but the container for a magical artifact.

“You’ve heard of Merlin’s Foreskin?” Ammy turned to address Roger with a look of surprised interest on her beautiful face.

Kerr hissed and closed the gap between him and Ammy. If Roger moved any closer to Ammy, there’d be hell to pay. If Kerr hadn’t thought it would scare her, he’d shift right then and there and rub his scent all over her, temporarily marking her as his. But he was fairly certain such an over-possessive act would ruin his plan to obtain her agreement to their mating.

A thought struck him—what if she didn’t like Shifters? Especially cat Shifters? The Goddess couldn’t be so cruel, right?

Zelda moved to Mac’s side and whispered, just loud enough for Kerr to overhear, “What in the Goddess’s name is wrong with Kerr? He’s eyeing Amethyst as if she’s catnip and he wants to roll all over her? Baba Yoopy won’t like it if Kerr takes a bite out of her special guest.”

Mac muttered, “Tell ya later.”

Baba Yaga and Fabio stood behind Roger as the rabbit Shifter spouted some nonsense at Ammy about the dangers of the artifact. The two glanced between Kerr and Ammy, then smiled. Something about their self-satisfied expressions bothered Kerr. They looked as if they were watching a play of which they already knew the ending, but still enjoyed watching it again and again.

Kerr shook his head. Whatever was going on with those two, he couldn’t be bothered to figure the puzzle out right now. He had much bigger concerns—keeping Roger’s and every other male Shifter’s paws, hooves, and claws away from his Ammy.