Jude lifted his chin, and Mack was sure lightning flickered in the witch’s eyes. He was dangerous, hot, and his mate.
The word rolled round his head like a lone tire.
He had a mate. He’d expected to one day find a partner. He wanted to have someone to wake up with and argue about the housework with. Someone who knew what he was and didn’t freak out. But someone whose magic would blend with his? That had never entered his thoughts. It wasn’t one he wanted to entertain.
“Fine.” Jude stood and put some bills on the table. “For the best really. As soon as I’m done here, I’m heading back to Seattle and then…and then I’m traveling the world.”
Mack watched Jude’s jean-covered ass leave and knew he’d made a mistake.
There were shifters who went looking for witches to kiss, and he’d just thrown his fated mate out the window and under the bus. He rubbed his hand over his face. The longing burned hotter. He could call out, get Jude to come back. They could finish their dinner and get to know each other much better.
Maybe Jude would make a good mate even though he wasn’t the kind of man Mack had thought he’d settle down with. He should give the witch a chance. And then what? Jude would leave, head back to Seattle like he already planned, and expect Mack to follow and obey. Instead of giving Jude a chance, they needed to sever the bond.
Chapter Six
Jude logged in to the Coven database on his laptop. He wouldn’t research anything to do with familiars, no matter how badly he wanted to. The last thing he wanted was the Coven making an appearance and sorting the creature out before he could. And now Mack had agreed to help, there was a narrow chance they could pull this off in the required time and get to keep his magic.
He still wasn’t sure about the familiar part, and Mack wasn’t keen on it either. Jude tried to ignore how his pride smarted at the way Mack wanted him gone as soon as this business was done. He didn’t want a witch in his life. Mack didn’t want to even give whatever this was a chance, give him a chance. Jude should be used to that by now. Everyone wrote him off, even his mother, and he hadn’t even been a week old.
While the creature listing on the database was fairly solid, there was nothing about the previous troubles in North. He’d checked that out before coming here. Searching for creatures that ate cows or sliced them up gave him a rather large list to go through. Then there were the creatures that had more than one name because they existed in more than one country. He’d be here for days.
What he needed to do was search for the thing, but he wasn’t ready to ask Mack for help to track it. Not after last night. Mack had rejected him, but he’d been the one to storm out. They needed to be talking to work together—unless Mack had changed his mind overnight and no longer wanted to help, which was entirely possible.
There were witches who’d love to be in his shoes, so close to having a familiar. And he, who could barely control his magic, had been granted a familiar by the Fates. He prayed that those ladies knew what they were doing. He flagged over a dozen things that the creature could be, then shut the site before he was tempted to look up familiars.
It was after ten, and he needed a coffee—or two. Then he didn’t know what he would do. There was no point in returning to the historical society until Helen was back. How long could he stall the Coven for? At least they’d know he was doing something, given that he’d searched their database.
He pulled on his boots and gave them another once-over. He’d cleaned them again last night, so he’d had something to do instead of thinking about Mack. Maybe he was the only one feeling the desire to develop the bond sluicing through his veins like the finest rum.
With luck, the familiar bond would be one of those things that would fade if left incomplete. But luck had never been on his side before, though, and he wasn’t about to put his faith in it now. At some point he’d have to find out how to break the bond, if that was what Mack wanted. He wouldn’t be one of those witches who bound an unwilling shifter just to accentuate his magic—that would only bite him on the ass. He didn’t need to be more powerful. He needed a way to use his magic safely.
The Coven’s offer for him to be an investigator was that way. But he couldn’t imagine himself sliding into bureaucracy. He’d never thought he’d go traipsing through fields to look at paw prints and dead cows either.
The main road was clogged with tractors and farm equipment. Banners hung off the sides, asking the government to stop the fracking. The town hall seemed to be the center of the storm, so he avoided it, taking the long way to the coffee shop. He ordered his caramel latte, but when asked if it was dine in or takeaway, he hesitated.
The talk in the shop was all about the protest and the polluted water. No one mentioned the creature. Maybe it was full of yesterday’s kill and would wait a few days. He should work out if there was a schedule to the kills or if they were random.
“Takeaway,” he said finally. Mack’s shop was just around the corner. He glanced at the cakes. Mack didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would accept chocolate cake or lemon tart as a peace offering, but he needed to take him something and he didn’t know how Mack took his coffee. He didn’t know anything about him. “And a piece of
