Amethyst sat on the wraparound porch of Mac and Zelda’s lovely log home. The reliquary containing Merlin’s Foreskin held a place of honor on a table next to her, right beside the nearly empty glass of potent hard lemonade that Baba Yaga had guaranteed would put hair on her chest. While Amethyst might not have sprouted any chest hair, the moonshine-laden drink had kicked her in the bum.

It was probably a good thing Kerr hadn’t left her side, because her lips had been numb since the first sip of the potent drink. By the third sip, she couldn’t feel her limbs. She wasn’t sure if he was protecting her from the locals who’d hovered around her and the reliquary or keeping her teetering, tottering self from falling on her arse.

At the moment, she was numb from tip-to-toe, so she hadn’t planned on moving from her seat anytime soon.

He’s protecting his turf. Oliver eyed her sleepily from his curled-up position on her lap.

“Turf?” She poked Oliver in his pudgy side. “What turf?” And why was he back to using mind-talk?

Because Kerr has ears. Her familiar yawned, his eyes slitted. As for the turf thing? Just roll with it. Not much you can do about it now.

She really hated it when Oliver was vague.

Kerr chuckled. Her moonshine-muddled brain took immediate offense.

“Are you laughing at me?” She glared at him, or at least, she hoped it was a glare and not a half-arsed leer or something.

“No, darlin’.” Kerr stroked her arm where it rested on the chair. Now that she could feel. It felt nice. Sweet. Soothing.

Amethyst yawned. Damn, that drink should be bottled and sold as a nighttime sleeping aid.

Kerr chuckled again. “Damn, you’re cute when you’re plastered.”

Amethyst turned her head slowly—so the porch wouldn’t swirl around her—to give the bobcat Shifter a piece of her pickled mind.

“Um, ma’am?”

The tentative speaker was Dale, a deer Shifter she’d met earlier in the day. The man sidled closer to where she and Kerr sat. He stared at the reliquary. “What sort of sexual magic does old Merlin’s skin tag have … exactly?”

Amethyst had expected such questions earlier—immediately after she presented the artifact to Zelda and Mac and before she discovered the evils of demon moonshine. But the smell of barbeque ribs, chicken, and pork had been a far bigger crowd draw than the magical history of Merlin’s Foreskin.

Amethyst looked beyond Dale and found that his question had drawn a small crowd.

Besides Dale, there was Roger, who was practically her new BFF. Well, him and Kerr, since neither man had been more than two to three feet away from her since she’d arrived.

Next to Roger, was a rare raven Shifter named Raisa who eyed the artifact with an avaricious look that spooked the shit out of Amethyst. Behind Raisa was Ardie, the aging wolf Shifter, who’d confided over alcoholic beverages and BBQ wings that he’d never found his mate. Rounding out the small group of interested locals was Bucky, a beaver Shifter and the Assjacket CSI supervisor, and a trio of pack rat Shifters—Hisi, Loki, and Magpie “call me Maggie”—who worked as CSI techs.

“Um …” Damn, she knew the words to answer Dale’s question were somewhere in her brain, but right now she was befuddled. She turned toward Kerr and mouthed, “Help.”

Her self-appointed guard smiled, picked up her hand, then rubbed his thumb in small circles over the back of it. A flow of warm, potent Earth magic unlike any she’d ever felt flowed from him into her body.

Nagging headache? Gone. Roiling stomach? Vanquished. Alcoholic-induced brain fade? Cleared up.

She breathed out, “Ohhh.” How had he done that? Yet another puzzle to solve … later.

“Um, sorry, what was his question again?” she whispered to Kerr.

He leaned over the arm of her chair and murmured, “What does Merlin’s Foreskin magic do?”

“Okay … thanks.” Then she turned away from Kerr’s tender and somewhat amused gaze and addressed her audience. “The magic in Merlin’s Foreskin, as with most magical artifacts, relies on the user’s own unique type of magic and ability level, plus his or her specific needs.”

Crickets.

Amethyst scanned the crowd and found lots of blank looks … well, except for Roger, who glowered at the purple phallic-shaped container as if he wanted to pulverize it to its base elements, and Raisa, who eyed the reliquary as if it were a drink of water and she was bloody thirsty.

“O-o-kay … any other questions?” Amethyst waited.

More crickets. Though this time, there was the actual twittering of crickets. The dense forest surrounding Mac and Zelda’s house was alive with the little buggers.

Finally movement.

Ardie stepped forward, a sad and sort of needy expression on his face. “Will it make a guy irresistible to a lady?”

Before she could frame an answer, Dale chimed in, “Does it pump up a fellow’s man hormones?”

“Does it cure limp dicks?” Bucky asked.

“Does it make little dicks bigger?” Loki, the only male pack rat, asked. “’Cause, the Goddess knows, the ladies like big dicks.”

“Heck, does Merlin’s magic make cocks go all night?” Hisi, one of the female pack rats, asked.

“Is that purple glass or actually amethyst?” Raisa asked.

Amethyst wasn’t sure which of the many questions to answer first … plus, there were no absolute answers for some of them. Her explanation had obviously gone over their heads. She pondered how to respond when Kerr interceded.

“I think Ammy clearly explained what the artifact does the first time. The magic is in the eyes, or rather the will, of the beholder. Simply put—Merlin’s Foreskin provides what you need at the time you seek its aid.”

Amethyst shot him a look of gratitude. “Thank you.”

No, problem, Ammy. His green gaze glowing like emerald fire, Kerr cupped the back of her head and massaged the tight muscles of her neck.

Forcing herself to turn away from his warm gaze, she faced her audience. “When seeking any artifact’s magic, you must also remember to frame your request in a personal incantation and infuse it with your magic. If your magic and need are honest and true, the artifact’s magic will respond.”

The locals seemed to inhale, then nod and exhale as one. All except for Roger and Raisa whose hungry, fixed gazes never left the magical artifact.

Something was going on with those two, but it wasn’t her business to figure it out. After all, she was merely a guest and would be transporting back to England in less than a week.

Oliver snorted in his sleep. Dream on.

What? She glared at her familiar who, it seemed, was playing opossum.

Later, doll. Oliver rolled over onto his back, stretched, and yawned. Tummy rub?

This time, Kerr was the one who snorted, though his sounded more like laughter than the derisive sound Oliver had made.

Amethyst rubbed her familiar’s tummy. “Any further questions?”

“Um, Miss Amethyst, ma’am?” Maggie, the last female in the pack rat trio, piped up in a squeaky voice. “Was Merlin alive when they took his foreskin?”

Her fellow pack rats punched her.

“Hey!” Maggie glared at her friends while rubbing the areas of abuse. “I wanna know.” She turned back toward Amethyst. “Is it all dried out, or is it gooey?”

Oliver opened his eyes and turned his head toward Maggie. “Good questions, kid. I don’t think anyone has ever asked those before.” He turned his look on Amethyst. “So?”

Amethyst laughed and scratched Oliver’s chin until he went limp with pleasure. “I can tell you take your science seriously, Maggie. Merlin was dead when the foreskin was taken. In Merlin’s time, males weren’t normally circumcised.” A chorus of ahhs swept over the crowd. “And the skin is dry, not gooey at all. Anymore questions?”

Heads shook, but for one—

“How do you open the reliquary?” Roger asked.

Methinks the rabbit Shifter has nefarious motives. Oliver glowered at the man.

Kerr shifted in his chair and shot Roger another one of his patented do-not-fuck-with-Ammy glares. He’d given out a lot of those looks today on her behalf. Most of them had been unneeded and had alternately amused and pissed her off. But right now, she was very grateful for the bobcat Shifter’s vigilance.

But it was Baba Yaga who swept in and put Roger firmly in his place.

“You don’t.” Baba Yaga stood in front of the table where the reliquary sat and cut off the rabbit Shifter’s view. “Roger, I have no clue where your mind is at right now, but you need to lose the attitude, or I will lose my ever-loving-witch mind. And we don’t want that, do we?”

The crowd shouted “no” in unison, making Amethyst wonder what had happened the last time Baba Yaga had lost her cool.

Better you not ask. Kerr’s voice was a rumble in her mind.

“Roger … all of you, for that matter. Listen up,” said Baba Yaga. “For the artifact’s magic to respond, the incantation must come from the pure of heart and must be a crucial need. So, no sex perverts or merely horny bastards or bitches need apply.”

“So, if you broke the glass…” Roger trailed off.

“Persistent bastard,” muttered Oliver.

A shot of green-sparkly magic zapped Roger on the nose, causing his ears to erupt in a partial shift. “What about you don’t open the reliquary don’t you understand?” Baba Yaga yelled at Roger, who’d hopped away and was smart enough not to respond.

Baba Yaga finger-combed her blond curls and blew out a slow, calming breath. “Amethyst”—the older witch aimed a fond smile her way—“has created a nasty mo-fo protective ward for this magical relic. Mess with the reliquary? Big BOOM.” She fluttered her hands at the crowd, and green and gold sparkles danced in the air. “Now, go … enjoy Zelda and Mac’s hospitality. Open bar is on me. Amethyst has had a long, tiring day and needs some quiet time. She’ll be around tomorrow if any other serious questions arise.”

The chattering crowd moved away, back toward the tables laden with after-dinner snacks and free alcohol. The mood of the locals was mostly happy and relaxed. A couple of those present had an unhealthy interest in the artifact. But Baba Yaga’s warning should keep those people in their place.

Then a chilly awareness traveled down Amethyst’s spine. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms to offset the spectral cold. Something foul lurked in the air around the edges of the clearing. A presage of evil came on the night breeze.

Maybe she was imagining it.

No, doll. Your instincts are spot on. Something wicked this way comes. Oliver sat up on her lap and looked in the direction from which the portent of evil came.

Kerr leaned in and asked, “Something or someone just spooked you. What’s wrong, Ammy?”

Amethyst petted Oliver’s head, soothing him, soothing her. She angled her head to look at Kerr. He’d proven he could mind-speak to her, but how much of her thoughts or emotions could he sense? Or, was he just adept at reading her body language?

“Nothing,” she said, testing him. “Just a chill.”

Kerr frowned and opened his mouth when—

Oliver scolded, “Liar.” Her familiar rearranged his tubby body so he could look at Kerr. “She sensed something off on the night breeze, coming from the east. An impending threat of evil.”

Kerr nodded. “That’s how I interpreted her thoughts. Why lie, Ammy?”

So, there was her answer—Kerr could also read her mind. Her ironclad wards were porous where he was concerned.

“What I sensed most likely has nothing to do with us.” Amethyst tipped up Oliver’s furry chin and looked him in the eyes. “Why make a big deal out of this?”

“Because you aren’t easily scared, and your particular magic is prescient where evil is concerned. I want to make certain Kerr is on guard.” Oliver licked his paw and cleaned his chin where she’d touched it. “We cat-types have to stick together and protect our witch.”

Kerr leaned over and scratched Oliver’s head. “Got that right, buddy. Nothing will happen to harm Ammy—or you—while I take a breath.”

“I know.” Oliver purred, then snuggled back into Amethyst’s lap and went to sleep. His kitty cat motor buzzed loudly and contentedly.

Blooming hell, she was outnumbered by over-protective felines.

“Something’s going on with you two, and I don’t like it.” Amethyst sought Baba Yaga to get her input on the unusual feline alliance, but the witch had left.

Amethyst, Oliver, and Kerr were alone in what seemed to be their own little corner of the world. The residents of Assjacket, while only ten or so feet away, might as well have been in Siberia.

“Oliver and I are just doing some male bonding.” Kerr rubbed her shoulder. “Baba Yaga was right. You’ve had a long day. Fabio’s hard lemonade takes some getting used to. Why don’t you and Oliver turn in? You’ll be safe here. I swear.”

“Well, of course, I’ll be safe.” Amethyst stood, cradling Oliver in her arms. “Why would anyone want to harm me?”

“Most likely no one,” Kerr admitted. “But you’re the only one who can safely unlock the ward on the artifact’s casing. I didn’t like the way some of the locals…” The names Roger and Raisa flitted across her mind and she wasn’t sure if those were her thoughts or Kerr’s mind-talk. “…seemed far too fascinated with it.”

“Yes, they were.” She took one tentative step toward Mac’s front door, happy to find she wasn’t as unsteady on her feet as she’d feared. Kerr’s healing energy had done a thorough job. “Everything should be fine. The artifact’s magic is potent, but only if you truly need sexual help. Despite what Baba Yaga said, it would be extremely hard to use the artifact in a bad way. Overall its magic is benign. I can’t see anyone trying to destroy it.”

Kerr moved to stand next to her, a frown on his face. “I never mentioned destruction of the artifact. My concern was all for you and the impending threat you sensed. Did you also sense a specific threat aimed at the artifact?” He tugged on a long curl lying close to her breasts.

“So you admit to reading my mind,” Amethyst said. “What exactly did you see while invading my thoughts?”

“I didn’t read your mind—exactly. I caught some flashes of images and could sense your feelings,” he explained. “You sensed a hungry type of greed in the crowd from one or two people. Then you were afraid. I didn’t like that, so I focused on trying to get a feel for the evil you sensed.” He swept the back of his finger over the swell of her breast. “The threat, the one on the night air, was it targeted at the artifact or you? I couldn’t tell.”

“Neither could I.” She scrunched her nose and forced herself to ignore the delicious sensations coursing through her body from the mere touch of the back of one of his fingers. “The darkness I felt was fleeting, a mere wisp or two of a thought so different from the rest of the crowd’s mood, that it popped out at me.”

Kerr’s expression was solemn. “I won’t let anything or anyone harm you, Ammy … not even myself. I vow that on my soul.”

His words, his oath, rang with truth. She trusted Kerr implicitly, and wondered how she could trust him more than some people she’d known for years. She let out a sigh. Tomorrow was soon enough to ponder yet another piece of the puzzle that was this weird connection between her and Kerr.

“It’s not a puzzle, Ammy. And I promise it’s not weird.” Kerr moved his tantalizing hand to her lower back and steered her through the open front door. “Go on in and get a good night’s sleep.”

Amethyst walked into the empty entry hall, then paused and turned to look back at Kerr. “The potential of evil arriving aside, why would you think I might not be safe here?”

“My instincts. Nothing you would’ve sensed.”

“You’re deflecting. Tell me.”

Kerr shrugged. “Lots of single male shifters around, Ammy.” His expression was a carefully cultivated blank, but underneath he smoldered with strong emotions that threatened to explode at a moment’s notice. “Shifters are always on the lookout for a woman of their own. I didn’t like the way the males crowded you earlier. You’re single, powerful in your magic, and beautiful. You have to realize you’re a major temptation for any red-blooded male.”

Amethyst inhaled sharply. The man was raging with jealousy … possessive jealousy.

Sweet Blessed Goddess. She was a clueless babe in the backwoods—and needed a crash course in Shifter Dating Rituals 101.

Oliver snorted in his sleep. Too late.

Biting her lip, Amethyst swallowed the urge to ask Kerr why he was protecting her from other men and instead responded, “I have some damn good protection spells, as Baba Yaga pointed out. And why would you care about men approaching me?”

Thought you weren’t going to go there? taunted Oliver, his eyes slitted and focused on her.

It slipped.

What the bloody hell was wrong with her? She never made stupid mistakes. In her job and her personal life, she never moved forward without fully researching and considering all the ramifications of any major decisions. So, why was she acting so careless now?

Mating hormones, doll. Oliver rubbed his head against her arm. You’ve finally met a man who won’t be slotted into your schedule on your terms. And about damn time. I want to be an uncle to some Shifter kittens.

Mating? Amethyst covered her fluttering lower abdomen with a trembling hand. No, it was just lust—an extreme attraction that she and Kerr merely needed to work out of their systems.

“I care. It’s all about territory,” Kerr softly muttered.

My territory whispered through her mind in Kerr’s now familiar growling tone.

He moved closer, so close that his warmth surrounded her suddenly chilled body. He covered the hand on her stomach with his. “I didn’t like those randy assholes infringing your personal space.” My personal space.

She refused to believe the words twining their way through her mind, and even now planting themselves into her heart and soul. This was more than lust. “I don’t even know you.”

“You will,” he husked. “Just give it a bit of time.”

Amethyst shook her head in denial, then ruined it by yawning and blinking sleepily.

Kerr smiled, a sweetly loving look that warmed her heart, and kissed the tip of her nose. The light touch caused quivers low in her abdomen. “You’re exhausted, darlin’. Go on upstairs. Get some sleep.” He traced her parted lips with the tip of a finger. “We’ll talk more in the morning.”

She was confused. Overwhelmed. Frustrated—mentally and, yes, sexually. Plus, a lot wary and more than a little scared of all that Kerr made her feel and how easily he read her.

Pulling on her magic and bolstering it with a little extra from the Earth, Amethyst warded her mind with extra layers of protection with the hope that nothing more would bleed through. She needed to think, and would like to do so without Kerr capturing any more of her thoughts.

Distance. That’s the ticket. After a few hours’ sleep, she’d transport back to England. She needed time and space to examine all that had happened—all that she felt—and solve the enigma of why she was so drawn to Kerr. Then she could decide what to do about this attraction, if anything.

Oliver snort-coughed. Too late. Just roll with it.

She didn’t roll.

Oliver’s amusement tickled across her skin. You will this time.

* * *

Later that night

Snarling and hissing, barking and growling, and all-too-human lurid cursing woke Amethyst from a deep sleep and a dream in which a large bobcat with Kerr’s eyes and drawling voice chased Amethyst through a meadow full of flowers. If the cat caught her, she knew the pleasure would be immeasurable—and then she’d be truly and fully caught in the bobcat’s snare.

Slightly groggy, Amethyst raised her head and looked around, situating herself.

Fur fluffed to the max, tail in the air, and his ears flicking, Oliver stood at the end of the mattress and stared toward the partially open window.

“What is that noise?” she asked.

“Territory fight.” Oliver chuckled. “Mac and Kerr are fighting.”

“I thought they were friends.” She got up and pulled on a tissue-thin silk wrapper that was so transparent it was useless as a cover-up for the equally thin nightdress. Somehow all her practical, appropriate-for-autumn nightclothes had gone missing from her luggage.

Baba Yaga had graciously, almost too graciously, loaned her some nightwear. Nightwear, my arse. This outfit was more like something the ’90s Madonna might’ve worn for her Sex coffee table book photo shoot.

Walking to the window, Amethyst opened it farther and leaned out to find a naked Mac wrestling with an equally naked Kerr. The two men rolled around in the moisture-laden grass. The moonlight outlined every straining muscle, their skin glistening from sweat and the night dew. Kerr had Mac in a headlock when Mac flipped his body somehow and threw Kerr off. Both men gracefully lunged to their feet and began circling, kicking, and blocking.

Sweet Blessed Goddess, it was like something out of a horny woman’s dream of a nude MMA bout. Amethyst could sell tickets to sex-starved women everywhere and make enough money to retire to a private island.

Drool threatened to flow down her chin. She snapped her mouth shut and swallowed … hard.

Her avid gaze roamed over Kerr’s body as he circled Mac. The man was cut. His abs were a solid eight-pack. His bum—she could write fucking sonnets about his biteable arse. She sighed and placed a hand on her chest over her racing heart as it threatened to pound through her ribs. And Kerr’s cock? His cock was a lickable work of art—long, thick, and heavily veined with a large plum-colored head.

And Mac wasn’t chopped liver, either.

“I don’t swing that way,” Oliver remarked. “But I’d give Kerr ten points on a scale from one to ten with ten being drop-dead fuckable. What do you think?”

“He’s okay.” Amethyst would bite off her tongue off before admitting Kerr was the decadent fudge icing on a five-layer chocolate cake. And who didn’t like chocolate?

Oliver sniffed. “Liar. I smell your arousal. Your heart’s pounding like a heavy metal band on uppers. Plus, lest you forget, I can read every salacious thought flowing through your sex-filled brain, no matter how many layers of shielding you use.”

Amethyst would’ve given Oliver a proper set-down, but remained silent when Kerr and Mac’s fight brought them right under her window.

They hadn’t noticed her yet. So, she sighed and settled in to enjoy the show. Now, she realized why men liked to watch naked women fight. It was like eye candy foreplay.

“You flea-bitten cat,” Mac snarled as he punched Kerr in his gorgeous eight-pack. The thud on impact was loud and indicated the amount of force behind the punch had been impressive.

Ouch. She winced. That had to hurt.

“You sprayed your mother-fucking putrid scent all over my house,” Mac snarled. “I don’t want your stench anywhere near my Zelda. Go mark your own damn house.”

“My mate’s in your house…”

And there was that word again—mate. The word that resonated in her soul and tugged at her heart and made her body weep for completion. The concept that scared the ever-loving crap out of her. Yes, a trip back to England was needed as soon as possible.

“…and I’m protecting her,” snarl-hissed Kerr as he blocked a vicious kick aimed at his balls and followed up with his own kick to Mac’s chiseled jaw. “Those damn horny bastards will think twice before trying to get to her if they smell my scent all over your place.”

Abruptly, Mac stopped fighting, fists on his hips, his head angled to the side. “You don’t think my fucking scent around my fucking house would be enough to protect Ammy?”

Kerr mimicked Mac’s posture. “No. Clear enough for you?”

Mac grunted. “Okay. I might, just might, concede your point. And I might admit, maybe, that I’d do the same thing if you housed Zelda and the twins for me. So, how are we gonna handle this? ’Cause, buddy, your spray reeks like a pro football locker room during training camp in July.”

“Your scent smells like a garbage heap in August, old friend,” Kerr retorted.

Amethyst ignored the post-fight male bonding ritual of insults and turned to Oliver. “Is this mating thing between me and Kerr a foregone conclusion?”

It couldn’t be, could it? Nothing this permanent could happen that fast, could it?

“Yep, yep, and yep.”

Amethyst’s knees went weak, and the room spun around her. She went to her knees and rested her forehead against the sill. She couldn’t catch her breath.

Oliver jumped down from the window and butted her legs. “Breathe.”

“You have to be wrong,” she managed to squeak out.

“I’m not. Mating pheromones don’t lie. You two reek of them and have from the first moment I saw you together. There’s no turning back, so I suggest you hop on the crazy train and enjoy the wild ride.” Oliver rubbed his furry cheek against her side, then leapt back to the windowsill. “Couldn’t have chosen a better man for you if I’d tried. Beelzebub’s bitch is going to have a cow…” Amethyst moaned. “Luv, everything will be fine. Kerr seems like a nice guy. Let him know you need some time to adjust.”

Amethyst shook her head. “Oliver … I-I…” She didn’t know what she thought.

Oliver tipped his head. “Doll, you’re a mess. I’ll just go outside and quiet the boys down so you can get some sleep.”

Finally the words came. “Oliver … I can’t do this…” Amethyst gestured from her body to the open window where Kerr and Mac were still talking. “This mating thing. It’s too much, too soon. I need to do research. Make a list of pros and cons. So … I’m leaving. Now.” She refused to acknowledge that deep in her heart and soul she already sensed the strong ties between her and Kerr. “If Kerr is serious about all this—about me—he can come to England.” She slapped the windowsill for emphasis. “And ask me for a date. And court me.”

Amethyst stood and prepared to transport directly back to her apartment in Arse-on-Wharfe.

She began the incantation for her transport spell when suddenly she yawned and lost her place. When she began again, she swayed on her feet and yawned once more. She could barely keep her eyes open. She was bloody wasted. The demon alcohol must have a time-release capability. She couldn’t transport now, she might end up on Mt. Everest’s summit in tissue-thin sex wear.

Somehow, she managed to stumble back to bed and lie down. Her robe floated off her body and landed on the end of the bed. Whoa, had she done that?

Curling up on her side, she yawned once more. She’d just take a short nap. She could still leave before dawn.

As she snuggled even more deeply into the cloud-like comfort of the bed and slowly slipped back into the dream Kerr and Mac’s fight had interrupted, she swore she heard Oliver say, “Neat trick, Carol. I thought I sensed your fine hand behind all this. I’ll just go get the boy. For tonight, he can sleep at the foot of the bed with me. There’s enough room.”