His Mate - Seniors 4 Read online

  “Heaven? If a building full of old witches is your idea of heaven, then I give up.” Hank had already found his mate, and the idea of a room full of senior witches held absolutely no appeal whatsoever for him.

  “Damn, and there’s only one of me to go around,” Quinn growled again.

  “I’m sure they can form an orderly line to take it in turns to zap you,” Hank grinned at the thought. Better that Quinn got zapped than him.

  “Zap me? Why would they want to zap me?” Quinn frowned at his friend’s suggestion.

  “Well if I had to hazard a guess — I’d go with personality,” Lark put in from behind them. He might have been late to the conversation, but he’d heard most of it.

  “I second that emotion,” Hank said.

  “Who are you, Smokey Robinson?” Quinn grumbled.

  “Well, I’ve been known to pull off a few miracles in my time,” Hank offered back.

  “Like getting Dorothy to mate with him.” Lark chuckled.

  “Well, I’m not looking for a mate – but who am I to deny these lovely ladies – me?” Quinn grinned.

  For a moment there Hank could have sworn that he saw Quinn’s wolf just under the surface of the man’s skin. It was certainly in his smile.

  “Oh, this is going to go down like a cold bucket of sick,” Lark chuckled harder.

  “I say we pull up chairs and ask Sarah to make some popcorn,” Hank agreed with his friend.

  “Oh ye of little faith,” Quinn said as he slapped his large hands together with glee and rubbed them as if he was staving off the cold.

  “I’ll bet he gets zapped within the first five minutes,” Lark said.

  “That long?” Hank offered back.

  Quinn rose to the challenge.

  “Watch and learn you pair of longtooth’s.” Quinn started into the room. Heads turned, eyes took him in from head to toe like they were deciding if they wanted to make a purchase, and Quinn grumbled a satisfied growl.

  “Okay,” Lark said. “Make that a minute.”

  ~

  ~

  ~

  “It seems very busy,” Valerie said as she leaned in toward her daughter and eyed the crowd around her.

  “I guess that means that it’s popular,” Elizabeth looked anywhere but at her mother.

  She grimaced at the thought that at any moment her mother would discover the real reason that she’d taken her to the inn. That was going to be an awkward conversation.

  “Please tell me this is not some sort of convention,” Valerie whispered. “You could throw a dart blindfolded in here and hit a witch.”

  “And that’s a good thing,” Elizabeth tried sounding as upbeat about it as she could, while dread weighed heavy inside of her.

  “Not in my book. Too many damn witches gathered in one place only means one thing,” Valerie said with a frown that brought her salt and pepper eyebrows down towards the bridge of her nose.

  “Fun times were had by all?” Elizabeth offered with an air of hope.

  “Trouble.”

  “It’s nice to see you have a ray of optimism today, mother,” Elizabeth said as she turned to look away from her mother and rolled her eyes within her head.

  “What good does optimism do at my age?” Valerie snorted a chuckle of disdain for her daughter’s words.

  “Gee, I don’t know — gets you through the day?”

  “The thought of dancing on my sister’s grave gets me through the day,” Valerie offered back. She was determined to live long enough to see that happen.

  “There’s a cheery thought,” Elizabeth said as she turned her attention toward the front desk and the overworked witch behind it. “I’m going to check us in.”

  Elizabeth didn’t wait for her mother’s reply. She took off as fast as she could manage to get through the small crowd of elders that were gathered.

  With each step she took she regretted her decision to undertake the skulduggery and duplicity that brought her to the inn. Hindsight was a wonderful thing – about as wonderful as guilt.

  Sarah had felt the witch coming in her direction and raised her eyes to the harassed looking woman that was making a beeline for her desk.

  “Let me guess — you’ve made a terrible mistake, and you want to leave,” Sarah offered the woman a sympathetic smile.

  “How did you do that?” Elizabeth asked. She knew that some witches had the gift of insight and yet she’d never met one before.

  “It’s written all over your face,” Sarah gave a small shrug.

  “I’m a terrible person,” Elizabeth grimaced.

  “I’m guessing that your mother doesn’t know why she’s here,” Sarah said.

  “Oh, you’re good.”

  “Meh, think of me like a bartender, and you’d better believe that I see a lot behind this desk.”

  “Well, can I crawl behind that desk and hide until this weekend is over?” Elizabeth grimaced again at the thought of her mother’s reaction to finding out it was all about mates and companionship.

  It wasn’t like she was throwing her mother under a bus or anything. At least, she hoped not.

  “Sure, but what happens on Monday morning?” Sarah offered her a knowing smile.

  “I drive my mother to a senior care facility — and run in the opposite direction.” Elizabeth winced at the thought of ever putting her mother in a place like that. She hoped that she would always be able to care for her mother’s needs.

  “Good plan. Shame you couldn’t carry it out.”

  “Damn, you are good.”

  “I’m even better over a glass of wine,” Sarah grinned.

  “It’s not even lunchtime.”

  “And you’re on holiday.”

  “Sort of.” Elizabeth gave a small shrug of her shoulders.

  “How about coffee?” Sarah offered back.

  “Irish coffee?” Elizabeth gave a small chuckle.

  “Now you’re talking my language.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  ~

  “Do you mind?” Valerie grumbled as she turned to offer a scowl to whomever it was that had just elbowed her in the back.

  She’d felt the buzz of the supernatural against her magical shields, and yet, her magic didn’t need to tell her that the six foot tall, broad-shouldered, brute of a man that eyed her back with a certain amount of amusement was a shifter. She might have been getting on in her years, but she could still see a wolf in man’s clothing.

  “Well, not in the least, now that I see who I accidentally bumped into,” Quinn allowed himself the luxury of letting a small growl roll under his words. That was the good thing about witches; he didn’t need to hide who he really was.

  “No, really. Don’t apologize on my account,” Valerie snorted her contempt for him.

  “Apologise, for what? Fate bringing us together?”

  “Go peddle your soft shoe shuffle somewhere else,” Valerie huffed as she offered him the stink eye.

  “Now, surely you don’t mean that?” Quinn offered her his best smile.

  “Be off, Satan’s minion,” Valerie said as she offered him a steely-eyed glare.

  “My, aren’t you just frosty the Ice Queen?” Quinn scowled back at her.

  The man knew where he wasn’t wanted and he turned away from her. There were plenty of other fish in the sea for him to hook. It might have been a while, and he was a little rusty, but he could still charm them – maybe not her – but someone.

  “And I might just shove a snow cone up your backside,” Valerie grumbled after him, and she was pleasantly surprised to see him hesitate in his stride.

  ~

  ~

  ~

  “Maybe I shouldn’t leave my mother alone with so many witches around. I don’t want to start World War three.” Elizabeth sighed to herself.

  “That Irish coffee tastes good, right?” Sarah offered her a winning smile. “Besides, I sent Dorothy to see to your mother’s needs.”

  “Who is Dorothy? Please tell me she’
s not another witch.”

  “She’s one of the elders that set up this matchmaking service,” Sarah said. “Don’t worry; she can give as good as she gets.”

  “I hope so; my mother can be quite the handful.” Elizabeth sighed outwardly that time.

  “Dorothy is mated to one of the pack. A good friend of hers is a newbIe vampire. If she can handle them, then she can handle your mother.” Sarah said. “Trust me — I have elders coming out of my ears.”

  “And yet, you don’t seem insane.” Elizabeth smiled.

  “Looks can be deceptive.”

  “A new vampire?” Elizabeth had only just realized what Sarah had said, and her brain kicked her mouth into gear.

  “We’re house training her as we speak. Not that she’s allowed in the house yet.” Sarah shrugged.

  “Sounds like fun — not.”

  “Speaking of fun — when was the last time that you had any?” Sarah asked.

  “Oh, you are definitely very good.”

  “I’m good enough to know that you’ve put your life on hold for your mother,” Sarah lied. She didn’t know if that was the case, she only suspected. But from the look on Elizabeth’s face, she guessed that she’d hit the nail right on the head.

  “I don’t regret it.”

  “Well, good.” Sarah gave a small shrug. “But that doesn’t mean that you can’t have fun this weekend. In fact, I’m going to make it a priority.”

  “Define fun…”

  “How do you feel about sexy shifters?”

  “Please, no. I have one person to run around after all day and night. I don’t need complications in my life.” Elizabeth sighed.

  “And what if there were no strings attached?”

  “You mean like,” she shrugged a shoulder but didn’t go further.

  “Like chocolate cake without the calories.” Sarah’s eyes glinted with mischief.

  “Ooo, chocolate cake. Is it really like riding a bike?”

  “It’s been that long?”

  “Four years, eight months, three days and I wouldn’t want to bore you with minutes and second.” Elizabeth grimaced.

  “Ouch!”

  “In truth, I’d just settle for a bath that doesn’t end with my mother coming in and demanding that we do a spell to punish some politician that she’s seen on the news who did something bad too – Barney the sheepdog or something.” Elizabeth raised an absent hand and waved away her troubles.

  “We have a hot tub,” Sarah leaned in and whispered like it was a secret.

  “Nirvana,” Elizabeth said with a sigh.

  “It’s away from the Inn, but it’s yours tonight if you want it, and I’ll make sure that we keep your mother entertained.”

  “Can I never go home?” Elizabeth whined.

  “Be careful what you wish for…”

  ~

  ~

  ~

  “That’s him!” Valerie grabbed hold of Dorothy’s arm with something resembling a death grip.

  Valerie wasn’t exactly subtle as she gave a backward nod of her head towards Quinn. The man had rejoined Lark and Hank, and all three of them were sitting along the far wall of the room watching the world go by.

  “That’s just Quinn,” Dorothy said as she tapped her fingers against Valerie’s hand. “Could I have my circulation back, my fingers would appreciate it.”

  Valerie snatched her hand away, and Dorothy offered a sigh of relief.

  “He is just plain rude!” Valerie hissed in hushed tones.

  “He’s a little rough and ready…”

  “Ready for what I wonder!” Valerie grumbled as she shot a glare in Quinn’s direction.

  Valerie’s eyes widened in surprise when Quinn lifted his hand and wiggled his fingers at her in a mocking wave. There was also a smirk on his lips that she had the urge to zap clean away.

  “Well, he seems to like you,” Dorothy chuckled, but she stopped the moment that Valerie snapped her head back around and offered her the kind of look the Angela offered her mate when he farted at the dinner table.

  “That man has been working the room. If you hung a pair of fake boobs on a broomstick that man would salivate,” Valerie offered with a level of venom in her tone that made Dorothy wonder just what it was that Quinn had been up to.

  “Well, sure, I can see how…”

  “Why do you let that man in here?” Valerie huffed. “Can’t you keep the shifters out?”

  “That would sort of negate the reason for this weekend, don’t you think?” Dorothy frowned. She had to wonder at just how forgetful the elder was.

  “Huh?” Valerie didn’t have an idea what the woman was talking about. It seemed sad to her when one of their own had a senior moment.

  “You can’t have a matchmaking event without matches,” Dorothy said trying to nudge the woman back to reality.

  “We’re building matchstick models?” Valerie looked puzzled.

  “Okay,” Dorothy offered as she looked around for Angela.

  Angela was quite good with the elders that had senior moments. And those elders were usually too far gone to be offended by the woman’s sarcasm. It was a win-win.

  “What kind of weekend is this?” It was a rhetorical question. Valerie didn’t expect an answer, but if her daughter had driven two hours just to build matchstick models — then she certainly wanted to have words with her.

  “Just your normal every day – find a mate – weekend,” Dorothy shrugged as she scoured the area for Angela.

  “A what?!” The shrill tone of Valerie’s voice drew everyone’s attention their way. It certainly made Dorothy jumped in place. “Are you insane?”

  “Not that I’ve noticed but at our age…”

  “Oh! Where is she?” Valerie eyed the room.

  “Who?” Dorothy asked.

  “My daughter,” Valerie muttered, and instead of a shrill tone to her voice, it was low and full of anger.

  “Don’t worry — we can find her for you,” Dorothy said sympathetically as she patted the woman on her arm.

  “Good! Because when I find her – I’m going to kill her.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ~

  “Is this one causing you trouble?” Quinn asked as he walked up behind Valerie and the woman turned sharply towards him. She eyed him from head to toe and backed up again, and then she gave an over-exaggerated huff.

  “Oh look, it’s the letch,” Valerie hissed.

  “Oh look, it’s the Ice Queen,” Quinn shot back. He was damned if he’d be outdone.

  “Why don’t you go sniff someone else’s petticoat?” Valerie’s hands were on her hips in no time at all, but Quinn didn’t take that as a warning.

  “I haven’t sniffed anybody. Least of all you,” Quinn grumbled a low, deep growl in his chest as he eyed the elder with annoyance.“I’ll bet!” She huffed.

  “Then pay up, sister, I’m selective in who I scent, and it certainly wouldn’t be a frosty old…” Quinn didn’t manage to get the last word out because Valerie unleashed her magic upon him and zapped him a good one.

  “Men!” Dorothy rolled her eyes and tossed up her hands. “Aren’t you old enough to know better, Quinn?”

  “How is this my fault?” Quinn growled back in annoyance as he shook off the last of Valerie’s magic.

  “You’re male,” one of the elders in the gathering offered on a chuckle.

  “He’s downright rude, is what he is!” Another witch chimed in.

  “Oh sure, let’s all pick on the man in the room,” Quinn growled.

  “Define man.” Another elder said.

  “Well, he didn’t get slapped, but he got zapped — pay up,” Hank chuckled as he and Lark walked toward their friend.

  “That wasn’t the bet,” Lark offered back.

  “Welch on the bet, why don’t you?” Hank grumbled.

  “Would you two stop acting like schoolboys?” Dorothy berated them. “If you can’t say anything useful then don’t say anything at all.”

>   “That would be a life of silence in his case,” Lark chuckled.

  “How about we bounce Quinn out of here on his backside for you?” Hank offered his mate.

  “That sounds like a good idea,” Lark agreed.

  “For the memory challenged among you, I’ll say again — how is this my fault?” Quinn growled. “This woman is as nutty as a squirrel’s lunch.” He lifted one large hand and pointed his stubby index finger and Valerie.

  “I’m guessing you’re going to regret that remark,” Hank chuckled to himself. But he was right, a moment later Quinn’s face was a picture of twisted pain as Valerie zapped him again. “Yep, that’s got to hurt. Hurts, right?” He grinned at Quinn.

  “He definitely deserved that one,” Lark chuckled. “I said; you deserved that one.” Lark offered Quinn on a raised voice.

  “I got zapped, I’m not deaf,” Quinn grumbled at his friends. “If I get zapped just once more…” Quinn growled out. But his words were like a red rag to a bull — and Valerie was the bull, only she didn’t have horns, at least, not ones that could be seen.

  She zapped him again.

  “Witch!” Quinn growled. He could feel the prickle of his wolf just beneath his skin as the beast reacted.

  He took a good long breath up his nose to try to even out his breathing and settle the beast within him. Bad move.

  The sweet feminine scent on the air made every muscle in his body tense almost as hard as when the witch had zapped him.

  He knew who — he knew what — but that still didn’t stop the hard grip of disbelief that clenched his stomach and made his head spin.

  A mate.

  His mate.

  “Oh — no!” He grumbled a growl and shook his head from side to side as he tried to collect his thoughts.

  Mine…

  Lark nudged Hank in the ribs, and Hank nudged Dorothy. His mate huffed in annoyance as she turned curious eyes upon him.

  “You’d better have a good reason for doing that, or you’re in the doghouse,” Dorothy grumbled at her mate.

  “Go ahead, Quinn — say it!” Hank urged.

  His reasoning was twofold — firstly, he knew what being in the doghouse meant, and he certainly didn’t want to go there again. He also wanted to hear Quinn say the word.