Jude placed a hand on his stomach to reassure himself that he was all in one piece. Which, of course, he was because he would’ve noticed if he was bleeding all over the place. He opened his eyes and lifted his head to triple-check.
Alive and unhurt, mostly.
He lay back down but didn’t feel at all relaxed. There was a jittery need in his blood, a longing that he couldn’t quite place. While he’d wanted Mack for non-Coven related reasons, nothing had happened except for a kiss.
The kiss.
Shit.
The spark that had happened when their lips had touched hadn’t been anything he’d done. The Fates had well and truly fucked him over this time. Mack had landed in his lap not because he was the killer but because he was Jude’s familiar. The ring of the word in his head sounded right. Good even. It shouldn’t be good. Most witches never got a familiar. Some didn’t even want one as there was a loaded history between witches and shifters. He’d never given familiars much thought because he wasn’t much of a witch and he’d figured that only competent or excellent witches were granted a familiar. So what were the Fates playing at?
There was no flash of insight, just the continued thumping of his head and the itch beneath his skin to get close to Mack. That wouldn’t happen. Not tonight, not ever.
But his thoughts were already drifting down the ‘what might have happened’ path if Jude hadn’t accused Mack of killing cows. He pressed his lips together. If Mack wasn’t the killer, then who was? And what would he do with a familiar who would rather knock him out than get into bed?
Jude groaned and wished he hadn’t gone to the bar. But if the Fates were involved, then it would’ve been only a matter of time until he’d fallen over Mack. Mack was a small problem, or the main problem, depending on if he was the cow killer. Jude had no idea what to do or where to start.
The light was too bright behind his eyelids. He blew the bulb with a thought and lay in the dark listening to the creak of the building and the occasional car. None of this could be solved right now. He needed some aspirin, sleep, and then, come daylight, coffee. Then he’d work out how to un-fuck what was going on so he could keep his magic.
If that was even possible.
Jude ordered his coffee and hoped they’d get it right. He needed his caffeine fix bad. The clawing in his head wasn’t from the punch. Nor was it from the restless sleep, plagued with dreams of spinning and binding threads together, that kiss, and what could’ve been on the saggy mattress. He worked his jaw; it was still sore this morning. No, the tension was the longing to find his familiar and cement the bond by getting frisky.
In daylight the idea of getting naked with Mack terrified him, even though that had been exactly what he’d wanted last night.
Mack was a bear shifter—what had he been thinking trying to bring down Mack for the Coven? He should’ve called for backup, or was that failure in their eyes?
Not that it mattered now as Mack was his familiar. His familiar was a bear shifter. It still didn’t seem real. Familiars were meant to be cat shifters, maybe a dog at a pinch. The Fates must be having a damn good chuckle. Stitch up the soon-to-be ex-witch with a bear shifter for a familiar. Jude wasn’t finding any of it funny.
What good was a bear shifter going to be when it came to magic? He didn’t know a lot about familiars, only that there was some kind of sharing of abilities and a bond that couldn’t be broken easily.
He needed it broken. Or Mack would break him.
He smiled at the lady behind the counter as he paid for the coffee and the apple muffin, while panic used the inside of his skull as a racetrack. His familiar had laid him out and then walked out.
Which wasn’t a good start to any kind of relationship.
Nor was blaming Mack for the cow deaths. He should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy. The Fates had dropped something in his lap, but it wasn’t the success he so desperately needed to get the Coven off his back. He didn’t have the first idea what to do with a familiar or how having one would even help.
Maybe he had one idea what to do with Mack, but that wasn’t going to happen. Mack would never let him within touching distance, and Jude didn’t want to be anywhere within range of Mack’s fist.
Way to fuck up gloriously on day one. Call the Coven and quit now before the mess gets bigger.
Although, Mack had saved his hide by getting in first and knocking him out. If he’d zapped Mack he’d have called in the Coven and right now be screaming as they dragged the magic out of his soul. His jaw, and pride, smarted a little less.
He found a table and a newspaper so he could listen for any relevant gossip and plan what to do next. He started with breakfast. The muffin had no actual apple in the mix. Not that he cared. It was full of sugar and topped with cinnamon and exactly what he needed this morning.
While he flipped the pages of the newspaper, he didn’t read a word. All he could think about was the kiss and the way his body wanted a follow-up. The tug in his gut would lead him to Mack if he followed it.
He was not going to follow it.
Once he left town, it would fade. He hoped it would fade. What if it didn’t?
He was very tempted to log in to the Coven’s database and see if there was a precedent for bears to be familiars and also how to kill the bond. But if he did that the Coven would
