The Lion's Witchy Mate: Magic and Mayhem Universe (The Wilder Crew) Read online

  It had taken him too long to get back to the village from the morning hunt. He should’ve known something wasn’t right when his...the male sent him off at daybreak to lead the hunt. None of the warriors who normally go out and get the meat for the day had gone, yet he’d thought since it was his birthday it was a right of passage. A way to prove he was a male of worth. When the vision came to him, he’d fallen to his knees just as the others had began to shift for the hunt. He’d cried out, shifting faster than ever. Only instead of going with them toward the animals they were to hunt, he’d gone back. A red haze had covered his sight when he’d heard his mother’s plea for mercy.

  “Are you alright, Thadd,” Annie asked.

  He shook off the memories, blinking a few times to dispel what he’d seen and done. “I am, yes. I best get going.” If he learned anything from that fateful day, it was not to waste time dawdling.

  “I packed a lunch for Hollis, but you take this one, and I’ll make him another one.” Annie got up and placed a box on the table. “You come back to us; you hear me?”

  Thadd stood, unable to lie and say yes. Instead he gave her a hug, thanking her for the food and love she’d given him for the last ten years.

  “Let me get this mess cleaned up, Annie.” Thadd started gathering dishes.

  Hollis placed a hand over his. “We got this.”

  He didn’t know if it was because he was vibrating with the need to be gone or if Hollis needed to comfort Annie, who appeared ready to burst into tears. Either way, Thadd was glad for the reprieve. Not that he minded doing dishes, but his animal was clawing at him to move. “I’ll let you know when I get...settled.”

  When that would be he didn’t know, but it was the best he could give. He headed toward the backdoor with a final wave.

  “See that you do and, Thadd...” Hollis paused, waiting for Thadd to turn and face him. “It don’t matter where you came from or where you’re headed, you always got a place here. This is home. We’re your family. Blood don’t make you family. It’s the caring that does. And us here at the Wilder Crew, we care a fuckton for you. What I’m trying to say is don’t get yourself killed. It’ll make my Annie all kinds of upset.”

  Annie shoved her elbow into Hollis’s abdomen. “What he’s saying is, we love you. You’re one of us, one of ours. You’re in our hearts and souls. We’ll feel the loss if you don’t come back. I sure don’t want to lose you so don’t make me.” She turned away, lifting her apron.

  Thadd could hear her sniffling. He didn’t like hearing the female in pain. He looked behind him at his bike, turning a weary glance toward the open road. “I’ll do my best.” It was the only thing he could say.

  Hollis gave a jerk of his chin, gazing back at the interior of the house and where his mate had disappeared to. Knowing he couldn’t put off leaving any longer, Thadd stepped outside, taking one last long look around the land he’d called home. “I’ll be back.”

  Fuck, he hoped like all get out he would be.

  He jogged down the steps to his Harley, pulled his hair back into a low ponytail, strapped on his skull cap like he was human. Even though he didn’t wear one most of the time since he liked the feel of the wind in his hair, Thadd wore one when he rode long distances. He wanted to say fuck it and toss the damn thing aside, but laws in other states had him keeping the thing on. Shit, again he hoped like nothing else it wouldn’t be too far. Out of all the countries and states he’d traveled through in the five years since he’d fled Kenya, Texas was the one place he’d felt most at home in.

  TORRANCE STEPPED OUT of her bedroom, hoping Ridge was already gone for the day. She absolutely loved him, like an older annoying brother, but sometimes she truly wanted to strangle him. The fact she A. couldn’t reach around his thick-ass throat would be a hinderance. Another major issue stopping her was B. she couldn’t jump high enough in her human form. Oh, also, C. he was her favorite person next to Mr. Bixley, which technically the latter might not count since he was her baby goat, so theoretically he was an it not a person. But she was counting him.

  “Do you gotta stomp and think so fucking loud, girl?” Ridge growled from the kitchen.

  The smell of bacon hit her long before she entered. Dang it, luck obviously wasn’t on her side. Why couldn’t the witches have put her with another shifter family who wasn’t so doggone annoying? Alright, it wasn’t the witches’ fault, or Baba Yaga’s either, she didn’t think, but fate. In fact, she was grateful for whoever had been looking out for her that day and brought Ridge out to look for her. Their little town was right outside of Assjacket, Virginia, which unbeknownst to humans was where the leader of all witches, Baba Yaga aka Carol, and her mate lived along with his daughter, another witch who she’d yet to meet. Of course, she’d heard stories of the other witch, most of which Baba Yaga had to be exaggerating because seriously, a witch who was as crazy as her daughter-in-law supposedly was, couldn’t be the third most powerful witch in the world. However, Torrance had learned not to question the other female, knowing things could definitely be possible. Hello, she was a panther and a witch. Plus, if the most powerful witch were to be believed, her daughter-in-law had made her own bestie bald, more than once. So, yeah, she’d keep her thoughts to herself since she kinda liked her hair.

  “Do you gotta be up before the asscrack of dawn cooking and waking the dead?” she countered, trying to distract Ridge from asking too many questions.

  Ridge being Ridge lifted his right hand, flipping her the bird. “Your goat ate my tomatoes. Again.” He glared over his shoulder.

  “How do you know it was Mr. Bixley? I mean, there’s all kinds of wildlife in the area. Case in point, look at us.” She waved a hand between the two of them. “How do I know it wasn’t you who didn’t decide to nibble on a ripe red tomato?”

  Ridge growled. “Little girl, just because I love me some tomatoes like most love apples, don’t mean I’ll be eating my award winning ones while I’m in my fur. Nope, I’m all carnivore then, eating me some prey. Now hush and eat. I’m tired and plan to catch some Z’s.”

  She folded her hands in front of her, hiding her grin. They both knew it was Mr. Bixley who’d eaten his beloved tomatoes. She’d have to erect a better fence around them this afternoon while Ridge slept, or he really was liable to go apeshit on her baby goat. At least he wasn’t a fainting goat for crying out loud. Like most witches, Mr. Bixley was her familiar. Only he wasn’t speaking to her. Yet. She was holding out hope he was just being stubborn. The little chocolate colored goat had called to her, much like she had called to Ridge. Only she wasn’t Ridge’s familiar, but his family of sorts. Gah, she needed to stop thinking and keep in the conversation.

  Ridge’s fingers were snapping in her face, for what she was sure had been several times. “See, this is what I’m talking about. How are you supposed to find a mate if you’re always off in la la land?” he asked.

  She rolled her eyes, knowing her mate would find her when the time was right. Like sooner rather than later, she hoped. But first, she needed to fix it so her familiar wouldn’t keep eating Ridge’s prized vegetables, or he’d make Mr. Bixley his dinner on his next shift. Fuck, she made a mental list of supplies she’d need to run into town to get.

  “You look tired, kid. You stay out last night?” Ridge asked, putting a plate of bacon in front of her along with a heaping mound of eggs.

  He was one hundred percent shifter, unlike her, who was a witch with a side of panther thrown in, thank you very much. If she’d been all witch, she’d have probably been able to conjure up all she’d need to erect a damn fence. She was getting better at the whole witchy thing, thanks to Baba Yaga and Cookie, her fairy witch godmother and the second most powerful witch. Of course, she wouldn’t call them that to their faces since they were like...all powerful and shit. Cookie would more than likely make her have an extra arm, or leg, which wouldn’t look good on her or anyone, while Baba would probably tell her daughter-in-law it was a free for all to make her bald. Again,
she couldn’t pull off that look. Nope, Torrance liked her red hair.

  She grabbed two pieces of bread, busying herself with the making of a bacon egg sandwich. “That would be a no, Ghost Rider. I helped close up the bar, came home all by my lonesome like always and fell into bed with a good book.” At twenty-three she was probably the only one in their entire stratosphere who was still a certified virgin. Not only did she have her V-card, she was sure if there really was a hymen inside her it was good and intact. Maybe she should go to a doctor and have her check and pop that fucker so at least she could say her cherry had been popped.

  “You’re doing it again,” Ridge accused.

  Torrance stopped chewing to look at him, raising one brow in question.

  Ridge took a huge bite, tapping his temple. She waited for him to finish eating before she asked what the heck he meant. If she asked while he was chewing, he’d answer regardless of the fact he had food in his maw, only because he knew it made her gag. “Doing what exactly? Be more pacific,” she said, purposefully using the wrong word because she knew it irritated the fuck out of him and...anything for free entertainment was good entertainment, unless it was her getting made fun of. She’d cut a bitch real quick before she let that happen.

  Ridge pointed a piece of bacon at her, but his phone rang, stopping whatever he’d been about to say. Torrance wanted to thank whoever it was since Ridge could go on and on when he got on a tangent. He shoved the food into his mouth, picked up his plate, which was piled with most of the eggs and bacon, and left with a growled “be good”.

  She snorted but was glad he left. Not that she didn’t love Ridge like an annoying older brother, ‘cause she did. He and his family had taken her in when she’d been orphaned and left for dead as a scrawny little kid with nothing but the fur on her back. She didn’t even remember her parents, only running and more running. Ridge said she was close to death when he’d scented her on their land and had nearly left her to die, but then he’d picked her up by her scruff and brought her home. He’d been doing the same thing ever since. Only she didn’t really need him or anyone to pick her up and make sure she was okay. What she needed was a male to notice she was a female. Instead they all turned away from her out of either fear of Ridge, fear of her witch side or Baba Yaga. Which was nice knowing she had a protector on one hand, and the witches of crazytown. On the other hand, they weren’t helping her find a mate nor were they willing to help her cast a spell to find one, what with that being risky or some such thing.

  Grabbing up her leftovers, she headed out the back toward the doors with the sweeping views of the lake. Mr. Bixley was waiting for her, his cute little sounds warming her heart. “Hey there, Mr. Bixley. How are you today?” She crouched down, petting the soft fur between his eyes. After placing the food into his dish, she gave him fresh water. “I need you to be good and stay out of Ridge’s way today. Can you do that?” she asked the baby goat. He nuzzled his soft little head into her, giving her a soft bleat. “You know you’re supposed to be my familiar? All the other familiars talk to their witches.” Her little goat stared at her with intelligent eyes, unblinking as if he thought she was stupid.

  She stood up, looking around. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, making her panther itch to be set free. The need to be somewhere was almost overwhelming, and it took her more effort to hold her shift back. Mr. Bixley backed away from her, sensing the true danger she posed. “I won’t ever hurt you, baby,” she promised the little guy, taking several steps away. Not even if she were half starved and out of her mind, would she ever turn to the little creature who entrusted her with his life. Never would she even think of her baby goat as a food source, even if he never spoke to her like a familiar should.

  She looked around one last time, making sure the gate was closed to his little enclosure. For his little home, she’d created a small oasis for the animal with a comfortable bed that had cost her over a hundred and fifty dollars. The playhouse was a child’s playhouse with a floor she’d covered in a shag rug that had been over two hundred dollars. Heck the house alone was well over five hundred. All in all, Mr. Bixley’s home had cost more than a lot of people spent on them tiny homes, but she wanted him to be comfortable.

  She tested the lock on the gate, not that Mr. Bixley hadn’t found a way to open it and go eat up Ridge’s tomatoes, but other predators weren’t smart like her goat. Back inside the house, she went in through the kitchen, doing a quick clean-up of the breakfast dishes. No sound came from upstairs where Ridge slept, which was always a good sign. He didn’t seem to be sleeping enough lately.

  Her pickup was in the attached garage next to Ridge’s Harley, his huge jacked-up truck, along with his precious muscle car. The old refurbished jacked-up Ford had been a project she and Ridge’s father had done together, making it her prized possession. Not that she didn’t love her motorcycle too. Although the guys Ridge rode with called it a pussy crocket, it could outrun any of their bikes without question. Not to mention, it was sleek as fuck and it was a lot lighter than one of their beloved Harleys.

  “Shit, I forgot my purse,” she muttered, going inside to get her bag.

  She gave herself a mental bitch slap, knowing if she didn’t get her shit straight, she could totally blow something up. After inhaling a couple times, she remembered to check for strange scents before getting into the old Ford.

  “I’m getting as paranoid as Ridge.” A quick press of the opener on the visor had the door opening, letting in the sun. The bright orb in the sky almost blinded her while she waited for the door to lift completely. Torrance didn’t want to fill the garage up with fumes, so she waited to start her truck. She had no desire to be the one to off her adopted brother while he slept. Nope, not on her watch.

  The deep rumble from the big block had her smiling. She was most assuredly a girl who liked engines that went vroom, old vehicles, and even the Harleys the guys rode. Her LS-218 was her baby because it could go from zero to sixty in two seconds, and she’d won it in Vegas on her twenty first birthday. Baba Yaga still vowed to ground her for life after that weekend. What happened to the saying about things happening in Vegas staying in Vegas? Well, that would probably mean her bike would’ve had to stay in the bright city as well. The sleek black machine was the most expensive piece of metal she could ever hope to own. She didn’t even care that the males said she treated it like a lover...not that she had ever had one, thanks in part to said males of the Mayhem Pride. Hell, if they’d won something like her bike, they’d have treated it like it was gold-plated too.

  It took less than ten minutes to make the trip into town. She kept the windows down, loving the cool breeze that heralded the coming of spring. Virginia was beautiful in every season, but spring was her favorite time of the year. In the winter, it made it hard for her black panther to blend, but she still loved to run on all fours when fresh snow fell. “I’ll get what I need in town and get out,” she promised herself. Although she loved visiting the little town occasionally, she much preferred to chill at home. Today was her day off, which just so happened to be a glorious day that she’d much rather be doing anything other than buying fencing. She wanted to ride her bike. The need to feel the wind in her hair and let loose made her antsy.

  She found a parking space up front, noticing the lot was empty except for two other vehicles near the back.

  “Hey there, young lady. What can I do for you?”

  Torrance looked up to see Howard, the old man who looked older than dirt, yet the human male was as competent as any of them, smiling at her. “Hiya, Howard. How’s the missus?” she asked, stopping to lean on the counter, knowing he wouldn’t let her out without a chit chat session.

  “Ah, she’s good. Got the arthritis ya know. This time of year makes it a little rough, but she’s still puttering around getting the garden ready for vegetables.”

  Torrance nodded, murmuring as if she agreed keeping silent about Ridge already having tomatoes. Her ability to fertilize the soil was some
thing she didn’t advertise to anyone. She wasn’t sure if Ridge realized they were the only ones who had fresh produce long before others. “I need something to keep Mr. Bixley out of Ridge’s prized tomatoes, or he’s liable to have a heart attack.”

  Their neighboring town of Assjacket, Virginia, wouldn’t even raise a brow if she’d spouted about her abilities to make shit grow, but here the humans were not to know. Nope, that was in the manual or something, she was pretty sure. Sassy Gobblesnitcherdoodle or some other effed up name like that probably had one she could borrow.

  Howard nodded and pointed toward the back of the store. “We got some fencing in the back that’ll do the trick. Mind you, it won’t keep the wolves and other predators out if they come a sniffing around. You best make sure you got a good fencing around your goat’s enclosure. or he’ll be a snack for what roams them woods at night.”

  She kept her eyes from rolling at the old man’s words. The natural predators lurking in the woods would be stupid as shit to come up on any shifter’s property. Poor Howard, he had no clue he was chatting with a shifter, although she would never hurt him or any human.

  “Thanks. I’ll take a look at what you got.”

  The bell above the door rang, drawing Howard’s attention. She hurried away to keep from being stuck in town any longer than necessary. She needed to tell Ridge about the feeling she’d gotten of being watched. Although it hadn’t felt like a fellow shifter, the malevolence had been real.

  Voices drifted back to her. She quickly tuned them out once she realized they were both human. Just as Howard said, she found a huge roll of fencing high enough to keep her goat out of whatever Ridge planted, plus enough should Ridge expand his garden. Without thinking, she hefted the roll up in one hand and turned toward the front.