By
T.J. Spade & Montana Ash
Contents Page
Other titles by Montana Ash and T.J Spade
Having found love and purpose in the strong, sexy arms of a fireman vampire, a paramedic hybrid, and a werewolf cop, Maeve has fallen into a comfortable rhythm of companionable days and lust-filled nights. Now that she feels so safe, Maeve is excited to celebrate her first real Halloween. The only problem is that Bishop – her gruff and ruggedly handsome werewolf cop – hates the spooky holiday. To make matters worse, a naked homeless man brought into his precinct hexes him, insisting he find the real spirit of the holiday. Even though he doesn’t believe in hexes, Bishop’s luck takes an abrupt nosedive and even adorable woodland creatures are suddenly out to get him. Can Maeve, Lucian, and Gabe work with Bishop to reverse the hex so Maeve can enjoy Halloween with her three lovers? Or will Bishop’s luck finally run out?
Firstly, thank you for turning the page to Forbidden Hex! A couple of things to be aware of before you join in the fun with Maeve and her men;
Forbidden Hex is a short story that follows directly from book one, Forbidden Hybrid. You do not need to have read book one in order to enjoy Forbidden Hex, but please be aware that the good times have already started.
Also, as authors (and readers) we both like our relationships to be fully inclusive. This means there are sexy-times between all characters – including the men (m/m). So, please note that this short story contains sexually explicit material between three men and one woman in a reverse harem/polyamorous relationship and is only intended for adults.
And finally ... happy reading! We hope you enjoy Forbidden Hex!
T.J. & Montana xoxo
Bishop rolled his neck on his shoulders, sighing in satisfaction when he heard the loud crack his cervical vertebrae released. He woke up with a stiff neck more mornings than not now. Not that he was complaining. With four people in one bed, sharing pillows and covers – and orgasms – it made for some interesting nights filled with twisted sheets and tangled limbs. He quickly yanked his shirt on, hastily doing up buttons before securing his shoulder harness. He just needed to grab his service weapon from its lockbox, find his keys and he’d hardly be late to work at all, he promised himself. Another worthwhile side effect of all those orgasms was a recent bout of tardiness. With no intention of keeping the three loves of his life a dirty little secret, he felt no shame admitting to his co-workers that they were the cause of his rushed drives into work. He didn’t mind the catcalls or wolf whistles and could handle the teasing banter like a pro, but the pursed lips and disapproving frowns from his partner were a different matter. Not that Sam had a problem with his ménage relationship. No, he simply had a problem with doing the extra paperwork. Sam was one of the only people in the world who could make him feel like a naughty toddler and he had promised his partner and mentor that he would be on time that day.
All thoughts of time management fled from his mind the second he entered the living room, however. It wasn’t the astounding beauty of the woman at the centre of their little harem that had his feet stopping in their tracks. No, it was the thing sitting next to her. “What the fuck is that?!”
“What is what?” Maeve asked, blue eyes blinking innocently at him, dark hair shining in the early morning light.
Bishop narrowed his eyes, “Don’t even, woman. You know exactly what I’m referring to. The life-sized skeleton sitting next to you on the lounge.”
Maeve looked to her left and jumped comically, her slender hand going to her chest as she gasped, “Oh my! How did that get there?”
Bishop lowered his head, taking a deep breath, telling himself to ignore the sniggering from a certain paramedic now standing next to him. “Maeve ...” he warned.
Maeve rolled her eyes, her fake innocence falling away to be replaced by a look of determination. “What? Bish, it’s Halloween in nine days and we still haven’t put up any decorations.”
“And we’re not going to,” he assured her. He hated Halloween. All the crazies came out on Halloween and his job as a detective became exponentially harder. Not to mention the fact that as a werewolf he had to put up with idiots running around dressed like poor imitations of the real thing, howling their fool heads off and pretending to bite people. And what was worse? The real werewolves going around biting people. Then there was the stupid decorations and the annoying brats knocking on his door demanding his candy! Nope, Halloween was not for him.
Maeve pouted, crossing her arms over her chest and plumping her breasts up enough to distract him. He saw the smirk on her face and he raised an eyebrow at her; her wily, womanly ways were not going to work. “Why do you want to join the masses in their idiocy? You hate Halloween too,” he pointed out. “It’s one of the things I like most about you.”
Maeve laughed, the musical sound filling him with happiness and lighting him with love. He crossed his arms over his chest defensively, sincerely glad Lucian was already at work at the firehouse and not around to read his mind. Even to himself he sounded like a corny moron.
Maeve uncurled her legs and stood up, the move showcasing her bare legs beneath the old shirt she wore. He sniffed, recognising the scent as Gabe’s and felt his features soften. Ever since her first morning with them when she had been forced to wear Lucian’s clothes for a time, she had become somewhat of a t-shirt thief. Most of the time when she was at home she preferred to wear one of their shirts – and nothing else. None of them minded. The fact that Maeve was always covered in their scents appealed greatly to their primal natures.
“I used to hate Halloween. Past tense,” Maeve corrected him. “I hated it because I had to go on lockdown every year. The supernaturals always come out in droves at Halloween and I didn’t fancy making myself an all you can eat buffet. But now that I’m one of them myself and now that I have you guys, I think Halloween could be fun.” Maeve shrugged, peering at him through her lashes as her head dipped.
Bishop sighed. The look she gave him was shy and filled with hope and although she was a devious woman, he knew she wasn’t faking it to get her own way. He knew how hard life had been for her, not understanding why werewolves and vampires alike were so attracted to her. They constantly sought her out, and more times than not, weren’t able to control their baser urges around her. It had meant she was constantly being accosted, bullied, and even bitten. In defence and desperation, Maeve had become somewhat of a recluse with her only real friend being Violet. Although Violet was a vampire, she had never been afflicted with the same need to feed from Maeve as nearly every other vamp out there. Maeve was a computer genius and ran her own successful online security company. She was also a hacker – a fact that he expressly ignored in light of his profession. Although it was true, she needed to spend hours in front of a screen, he had no doubt she would never have been such a hermit had her life not depended on it. So who was he now to deny her something she had missed out on?
Bishop grunted, knowing he was going to give in. He’d do anything for her. Even live with ghastly, tacky decorations at the front of their home. “Where did you get a damn skeleton from anyway?” he quickly changed the subject.
Maeve smiled adoringly at Gabe, who had remained suspiciously quiet. “Gabe got it for me.”
Bishop scowled at him but Gabe didn’t even have the good grace to look apologetic. “What my lady wants, she shall receive,” he stated, before grabbing Maeve by the waist and proceeding to lay pillage to her mouth.
Bishop was forced to reach down and rearrange his junk to a more comfortable position. Seeing two of his lovers together never failed to make him horny. But given he was now running late to get to the precinct and was unable to do anything about it, the horniness was fast changing to grumpiness. He cleared his throat loudly and Gabe finally released Maeve, grinning at him over her shoulder and waggling his eyebrows. Despite his annoyance, he felt his lips twitch. Gabe really was gorgeous; over six feet of muscled, dark skin – thanks to his African American heritage – with a shaved head and dark chocolate eyes. Maeve’s creamy, porcelain skin contrasted beautifully against the dark tones, her full lips incredibly potent.
“I’m leaving. If I come home and it looks like a pumpkin threw up on our house, you’ll both be sorry,” he warned, the threat empty. Maeve and Gabriel apparently knew that, for all they did was laugh and hold onto each other tighter.
“Ingrates,” Bishop muttered, slamming the door on their giggles.
Maeve couldn’t believe how much fun she was having. Bishop had been right when he’d said she’d hated Halloween. The supernatural holiday used to make her shudder and batten down her doors for the week preceding All Hallows’ Eve – not to mention the quite literal hiding beneath her blankies on the big night. But then, she had hated pretty much all social situations until very recently. If it hadn't been for her bestie, Violet, dragging her sad, lonely butt out every once and while, Maeve knew there would have been nothing but cats and old episodes of NCIS in her future. And that would have been sad, Maeve mused. Because the show just hadn't been the same since Tony left.
Sighing a little morosely, Maeve shook off the lingering hurt from DiNozzo’s untimely departure and instead focused on her current activity – ensuring her home looked like a pumpkin exploded on it. Maeve snickered when she remembered Bishop's parting words. The growly werewolf acted all gruff and grumpy but deep down, Maeve knew he was ... well ... gruff and grumpy, she admitted. But there was a whole lot of honour, bravery, compassion, and love in there too. And Maeve was lucky enough to be one of the recipients of all those contradictions.
One of ... repeating those words caused her to flush from head to foot. Somehow, some way, she had fallen into the middle of a foursome – and had also miraculously become the foundation that held her three men together. They were all so different, with Lucian's perpetual playfulness and Gabe's steady manner, but they all fit together like pieces of the same puzzle. A very sexy puzzle, Maeve acknowledged, forcibly directing her thoughts away from the masculine smorgasbord that she now lived with and on to hanging the last of the fake spiders in their entryway. She really wanted to be finished decorating by the time the guys returned from work.
Fifteen minutes later, Maeve dusted off her hands and stood back to eye her handy work. It may have been her very first attempt at Halloweening, but she thought she'd done a great job. It was the perfect blend of pretend-scary and tacky. She couldn't wait to hear what the others thought. A quick glance at her watch assured her she wouldn't have to wait long. Gabe was actually off work that day, having done four, twelve-hour night shifts in a row. After having an orgasm-filled shower together that morning, Gabe had left her to her designated Halloween duties and headed off the library to study. He was working hard to complete his transition from paramedic to doctor and would be home any minute. The same for Lucian and Bish. They all strived to have as much family time as possible. It was just another thing to love about them.
Despite Lucian having started his shift four hours earlier than her cop, she knew he and Bishop were due to finish at the same time and Lucian was going to walk the short distance to Bishop’s precinct so they could travel home together. They were also supposed to meet for a lunch date – if Bishop hadn’t forgotten about it in a fit of surliness. Maeve snorted, remembering the look of abject horror on his face when he had seen the skeleton that morning. She eyed her new bony friend, who was casually reclining on the lawn chair and was just about to mimic him, when she heard the sound of feet on pavement. Her heightened hearing allowed her to recognise who it was before they appeared, and she was already moving, arms open and smile wide, to greet her vampire and werewolf.
“There she is!” Lucian exclaimed, wrapping her in his solid embrace and kissing the common sense right out of her. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” Maeve replied. And it was true, she thought, her eyes mapping Lucian’s facial features; his dark eyes, high cheekbones, tanned skin and silky black hair were a testament to his Asian ancestry. Those features were just as beloved to her as the long, shoulder-length caramel hair, short, scruffy beard, and coffee-coloured eyes of the werewolf behind her. Speaking of the werewolf ... Maeve stepped back, expecting to be swept up in Bishop’s equally muscled arms but was disappointed when she felt nothing but air at her back.
Frowning, she glanced behind her, only to find a very pissed-off looking werewolf. She turned back to Lucian and raised an eyebrow. The laughter on his face was nothing new, nor was the scowl on Bishop's, she admitted. But this time, the fierce frown held a hint of something else and a slither of unease worked its way down her spine. “Guys? Is something wrong?”
“No!” Bishop growled, glowering in Lucian's direction.
Lucian coughed into his palm, his dark eyes holding nothing but merriment despite the angry vibes emanating from their lover. “Yes,” he contradicted, “there is something wrong. Our boy here got himself hexed.”
Maeve blinked, that was not what she had been expecting to hear. “I’m sorry, what?”
Lucian barked out a laugh, eyes twinkling in their mirth. “Hexed. You know; cursed, jinxed, voodoo-ed ...” he waggled his fingers helpfully.
Maeve eyed both men, “I see,” she commented, slowly.
Gabriel chose that moment to come whistling up the sidewalk. He grinned when he spied them all, his eyes lighting up when he saw her efforts. “Babe, the place looks great! Good job,” he kissed her soundly, slinging an arm around her waist. “Didn't she do a great ...” Gabe's voice trailed off when he finally noticed the tension in the air. “Uh, what did I miss?”
Maeve crossed her arms over her chest, “Oh, nothing much. Just Bishop getting hexed.”
“Say what now?” Gabe looked as confused as she felt.
“I did not get hexed! You know why? Because there are no such things as hexes!” Bishop exploded.
Lucian burst into unrestrained laughter and Maeve felt herself smile despite her confused state. “Lucian, why don't you pretend like Gabe and I have no idea what you two are talking about and start at the beginning?” She suggested, sardonically.
Her tone seemed to finally snap Bishop out of his introspective anger and he sighed, shoulders slumping. “I'm sorry. The place looks ... awesome.”
Maeve heard the hesitation in his voice and the quiet horror in his whiskey eyes as they took in the Halloween-themed front yard. She would have giggled but she appreciated his heroic effort to support her. “Thank you,” she kissed his rough cheek. “Now, you were saying ...” she prompted.
Bishop grunted, “It's nothing. Just some naked lunatic. I told you all the crazies come out this time of year.”
“Naked?” Gabe asked.
“Lunatic?” Maeve enquired at the same time. She rolled her eyes – of course all Gabe heard was naked.
Bishop ran his hand through already dishevelled locks, “A homeless guy was brought into the station for public indecency today. Apparently he had been causing a ruckus on the streets with his sign and Hammond arrested him.”
“Ookaay,” Maeve was still unsure what all the fuss was about. “What did his sign say?”
Lucian barked out a laugh, replying, “Trick or Treat.”
“Well, it is Halloween ...” Gabe offered.
“Yes, but that doesn't mean you can walk around in nothing but a trench coat ... and a ‘trick or treat’ sign hanging off your dick!” Bishop growled. “I wanted neither his tricks or his treats!” Their lover assured them.
Lucian barked out a laugh and Maeve found herself giggling. Gabe was also grinning from ear to ear. “So what happened?” Maeve asked, more than a little intrigued.
“The guy was resisting so I gave Hammond a hand – only to find myself plastered against a naked, sweaty man – that was neither Lucian nor Gabe! – who then proceeded to ... lick me.”
“Lick you?” Maeve didn't know whether it was funny or disgusting. Lucian clearly didn't have the same problem though, for he responded;
“Yeah. Licked him right on the face. I was there to meet Bish for lunch and saw the whole thing. It was funny as fuck. You should have seen his face when the guy tried to suck his earlobe.”
Bishop shoved Lucian none too gently, “You're a jerk!” Lucian simply laughed. “Anyway, I grabbed the imbecile’s tongue and told him I'd rip it out if he touched me again. That's when he started ... chanting.”
“Chanting?” Maeve shuddered now, still on the fence about whether the whole thing was hilarious or horrible.
“Yeah, started talking gibberish and pointing his finger at our boy here,” Luci supplied. “Made a few weird signs with his hands and ended by saying Bishop was cursed until he could find the real spirit of Halloween.”
“Total fucking bullshit! There's no such thing as curses. Now, if you'll all excuse me, I'm going to go sandpaper my ear.”
And with that, Bishop stomped up the stairs, slamming the door behind him. Maeve spun around slowly, eyebrows raised, “Hexes aren't real ... are they?”
Lucian gave her a tender smile, kissing her cheek, “No, sweetheart. But there is such a thing as a werewolf who can't take a joke.”
One week later
Trying with every ounce of his fraying self-control not to slam the door, Bishop settled for shutting it ... hard. Okay, he’d made it inside the townhouse. Inside was safe, he told himself.
“What happened to you?”
Maeve’s head looked up from whatever it was she was chopping in the kitchen and the inflection in her voice informed him that he looked every inch as sticky as he felt. “There was an ... incident.”
“I’ll say.”
Apparently noting the grim look on her lover’s face, Bishop saw Maeve stifle her laugh. Wiping her hands on a dishrag, she smiled and asked sweetly;
“Want to talk about it?”
“Not particularly.” He began the sentence in his typical way before thinking better of it. After all, since they’d let this vixen into their home, their bed, and their hearts, he’d tried a helluva lot harder not to be so closed off. Luci called it mellowing but he preferred to think of it as making room. He was shipping out some of his reservedness and opening himself up to new possibilities – so far, it was going great. Just not today. Sighing loudly, he admitted, “I was called to a possible crime scene this afternoon; an employee at the Sugarcone factory found an elderly colleague unresponsive and hunched over at his station.”
“Sugarcone, wait is that the ice-cream factory that makes the Strawberry Swirl I like?”
“That’s the one.” Bishop shouldered out of his jacket and wondered if he should wash it or burn it. He had a sneaking suspicion the smell was going to linger if he didn’t send the thing to wherever unicorns and ice-cream went to die. For now, he slung it over a kitchen stool. “Anyway, the ME had just left. Doc Marvel didn’t think the circumstances were suspicious and neither did I, but as I was following her out there was an explosion.”
Maeve gasped, “An explosion?!”
“Apparently when he lurched forward, our dead guy must have nudged a controller, sending the ice-cream churner into triple-speed mode.”
Maeve’s face relaxed, “There was an ice-cream explosion?!” This time she burst out laughing and she was chortling and snorting so hard that Luci came out of their shared room to see what the matter was. He took one look at Bishop and shook his head, a wide grin breaking out on his face.
“It’s the eye.”
Bishop rolled his. “Quit it, will you? Today has been less than average.”
“Your whole week has been the pits,” Lucian pointed out, amused. “Ever since that homeless man they brought into the station hexed you.”
Changed out of his uniform and wearing low-riding jeans and a t-shirt, Bishop thought Lucian looked as daringly handsome as he’d ever seen him. But with the vamp’s bright eyes and cocky smile looking so self-righteous, there was no way he’d admit that out loud now. “Curses are a bunch of hoodoo,” he repeated – for what felt like the hundredth time that week. His lovers were frustratingly fixated on the whole hex bullshit. Still, as he thought back to the ice-cream incident, the walk to work after his car wouldn’t start and the rabid squirrel that attacked him in the park, he had to give the universe props – sometimes she was a real bitch.
“Don’t forget the doggy business you trod in leaving the house yesterday,” Luci added, reading his thoughts. “That much bad luck at once can only mean one thing; you have the eye.” He moved in close and kissed Bishop’s grizzled and tacky cheek. “Like I told you a week ago, you’re going to have to find a way to reverse the curse, bud.”
Dressed in gym wear, Gabe came in the door and immediately stopped, sniffing the air like a hound, “Why does Bishop smell like ice-cream? Is that caramel?” He gasped, “Did you three have kinky ice-cream sex without me?!”
Bishop rolled his eyes, “There was no kinky sex. And for your information, it’s Maple Toffee.”
“Hmm, well, whatever it is, I like it.” Gabe set his gym bag down and came to join the crew assembled in the kitchen. “They should make that into an air-freshener or something,” he pecked Maeve and then Lucian on the lips.
Bishop released a frustrated growl as the conversation flowed around him, causing Maeve to laugh again. “Sorry, babe. Still a bit of a sore spot, huh?”
“What is?” Gabe’s brows drew together.
Luci ruffled Bish’s hair playfully, “The fact that our favourite werewolf is cursed.”
“Stop being ridiculous.” Bright with warning, Bishop flashed his whiskey-hued irises around the group. “I’ve had a run of bad luck. That’s all. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to go shower and get this gunk off me.” But before he could make it more than two steps, Maeve’s throat clearing halted him in his tracks. “What is it?”
He watched as Maeve roved imploring eyes around the group. “Um, do you want to tell him or should I?”
“Tell me what?” he demanded.
“Well,” she hesitated. “You see, there was a letter in the mail last week; the water is off for the next two hours because they’re working down the street.”
One deadly sharp canine was visible as Maeve bit her lip, apparently awaiting his reaction, but all Bishop could do was stand there, blinking. When he found words, he said them slowly, “So I can’t take a shower.”
The trio shook their collective heads.
“This is just dandy.” Bishop’s gaze swung to Gabe and he held up his hands, protesting;
“Don’t look at me. I actually read our mail and I showered at the gym.”
Bishop idly rubbed the spot on his hand where the squirrel had sunk its pointy little teeth in. Apparently nowhere was safe. “That’s fine,” he muttered. “I’ll very calmly drive back to work and shower there. No problem.”
Gabe gulped audibly, “There’s one more thing you should know ...”
Bishop shot him a disbelieving look, “What else could there be?”
“You must have been in a rush when you arrived home. When I got here, there was a guy ticketing your car. You parked in a restricted zone.”
Bishop blinked a final time before bellowing, “There are no restricted zones in our street!” He threw his hands in the air and walked a tight angry circle.
“There are now – they put the signs up last week.” Gabe coughed, “That was also in our mail.”
At this point Maeve, Lucian and Gabe were all trying to smother grins, so Bishop grabbed his jacket and marched toward the door.
Maeve called out, “When you get back from the station, I’m making spaghetti.”
“Great. Something for me to choke on,” Bishop growled. He’d just stepped foot in the corridor when he heard Luci call out;
“Good luck.”
“With what?” Bishop glanced back over his shoulder. “Taking a shower? I’ve been doing that for a while.”
Lucian raised a considering brow, “With finding your homeless guy.”
Bish regarded the vampire steadily. “Get out of my damn head,” he grumbled and when Lucian only grinned harder, he finally slammed the door.
Bishop returned within the hour, ice-cream free, but just as ill-tempered as when he had left. Gabe smothered his grin behind his hand, asking politely; “No luck finding the hobo, I take it?”
Bishop snarled, striding across the room as he tugged the leather band from his hair. The mass of rich, coffee-coloured strands settled messily around his shoulders and Gabe felt his fingers twitch with the need to run them through the surprising softness. Or better yet, use them as leverage as I pound into him from behind, Gabe thought. He shuddered, his cock immediately thickening in his gym shorts at the thought. In the three months since Maeve had happened into their lives and they had all admitted their true feelings for each other, there had been plenty of nights – and days – filled with back-arching orgasms. And although he, Lucian, and Bishop had thoroughly explored each other and more than contributed to those aforementioned orgasms, they had yet to take that final step and actually make love. Not that they had any such inhibitions when it came to Maeve. No, Maeve seemed more than pleased with her predicament and the attention she received.
Gabe wasn’t dissatisfied by any means and was more than willing to wait another two months – or two years if need be – in order for his two male lovers to feel comfortable enough to take that next step. But if he was interpreting their heated looks and even more heated touches correctly, then Lucian and Bish were more than ready. He figured their problem was simply a product of their pasts. It had taken them years to reach the point where they finally admitted they felt more for each other than mere friends. And if it hadn’t been for the beautiful female hybrid who had turned their lives upside down, he had no doubt they still would have been bumbling along in miserable ignorance.
But they did have a beautiful hybrid and Gabe was the happiest he had ever been in his whole life. Getting mauled and killed aside, the last few months had been the very best of his existence and he couldn’t imagine not having Maeve in their lives. She was smart and funny, caring and compassionate, completely gorgeous inside and out. And yeah, Gabe knew he had it bad. But Maeve completed him and his makeshift family in a way he couldn’t describe. Unrequited feelings for his best friends aside, he hadn’t thought his life was lacking in any way. But his very first glimpse of Maeve had proven that wrong. He had been immediately and instinctively drawn to her – even though she had been dead at the time. And wasn’t that a trip? He didn’t like to remember how he had first seen her, bloody and torn on the street, her cyan irises fixed and glassy. Thank the gods he had taken a momentary break from sanity and decided to steal her body from the morgue. He had been even more amazed when Lucian and Bishop had confessed to feeling the same inexplicable connection he did. They had yet to puzzle that mystery out but if he were being honest, he didn’t really care. Maeve was theirs and that was all that mattered. Now the three of them just had to get over their old habit of keeping things from one another – like the need to fuck each other on every available flat surface.
“No. The fucker has apparently disappeared off the face of the fucking earth.”
Bishop’s curse-filled reply had Gabe shaking his head to dislodge the remnants of his trip down memory lane. His cop was frowning, causing lines of frustration to wrinkle the perfection of his forehead. Gabe grinned, Bishop really was adorable when he was grumpy. Which is eighty percent of the time, he thought, allowing a chuckle to escape.
Bishop narrowed his whiskey eyes, “Something funny?”
Gabe cleared his throat, shaking his head, even as he allowed his eyes to roam over the length of Bishop’s frame. The strong shoulders were stiff with tension, his muscles jumping in his forearms as his hands flexed. Bishop had his legs planted firmly on the ground, and Gabe could easily imagine his muscled thighs bunching in reaction. Gabe wanted those strong thighs wrapped around his waist.
“Gabriel?” Bishop asked, obviously curious about his silence.
Gabe shrugged, “Just thinking about your recent run of bad luck.”
Bishop jutted his chin out, “Were you just?”
“Tell me, Bishop, if you’re having so much bad luck, then how come you’re about to get really, really lucky, hmm?” Gabe practically purred as he stalked across the room, bumping Bishop with his body until he had the surly cop pressed against the wall.
It took a few seconds for Bishop’s mind to clear and he looked at Gabe, finally realising the new position he was in. “What the hell are you talking about?” Bishop grumbled. “And what’s with the lack of personal space?”
Gabe leaned in until he had both palms flat against the wall on either side of the werewolf’s head. He inhaled deeply, taking in the delicious wolfy scent. Since becoming a literal beast himself, Gabe found himself amazingly drawn to scents. “I’m talking about this,” he rolled his hips, gratified to feel his hardness pressed against Bishop’s own.
Bishop sucked in a breath, “Oh ...”
Gabe chuckled, “Yeah, ‘oh’. I want you. Will you let me have you?”
Bishop raised his eyebrows, making no move to put distance between them. “What if I want to fuck you?” came his eventual reply.
Gabe pulled back, searching his love’s gorgeous face. He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss against those talented lips, “Then do it. I don’t care what end I’m on, Bishop. I just want to make love with you.”
Bishop sighed, his slightly smaller frame sagging against Gabe’s. Gabe shivered as warm breath bathed his neck, followed quickly by warm lips. “I want that too,” were the words whispered into his ear.
“Me too! Or me three I guess.”
Gabe spun, keeping Bishop tucked close to his side. Lucian was standing next to the lounge, his fangs poking his bottom lip, irises red with hunger. Gabe felt his dick stir once again. Damn, he was one lucky son of a bitch to be surrounded by so much hotness.
Bishop snorted, “And just how do you think we’re going to do this, huh?”
Lucian rolled his eyes, “Jeez! Who gives a fuck about positions? Give me the bottom, give me the top. Hell, give me the middle! Let’s just get this train moving, shall we? We can rock, scissors, paper for who gets to be on top next time.”
Gabe snorted at that, “Yeah, not likely. You cheat.” He pointed an accusing finger at his friend.
Lucian’s eye’s widened with innocence that Gabe wasn’t buying. His vamp was anything but innocent. “Me? Cheat? Why, I would never! Besides, how does one cheat at rock, paper, scissors? It’s a game of chance.”
“Uh huh. I don’t know how you do it, but you do.” Bishop backed Gabe up. “No rock-off for you.”
Lucian just grinned, quickly stripping off his shirt. “Whatever, boys. Someone teach me a lesson I won’t soon forget,” he waggled his eyebrows.
Gabe groaned, already practically panting upon seeing Lucian’s fine chest. His men were both so fit. But before he could pounce, a sudden thought hit him. “Maeve ...” Gabe began, remembering they also had a very sexy female hybrid to fulfil. One who just happened to be the beating heart of their quartet.
“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m pretty sure I just had an orgasm listening to you three,” Maeve panted, her back arched against the wall by the kitchen.
Her words sounded glib, however Gabe knew they were anything but. Her usually blue eyes were now a molten gold, the wolf half of her shining through. Gabe growled, feeling his canines elongate and his own eyes flash silver. The adjustment from human to hybrid hadn’t been easy and had been fraught with issues. Not the least was the fact that they had to keep his and Maeve’s hybrid status a secret lest the government get wind and take them away. But right now, with his heightened senses picking up on the dampness between Maeve’s legs and the pounding hearts of his two men, he couldn’t say he cared.
Maeve barely contained her squeal of excitement as she followed her three men into their bedroom. Her greatest fantasy was about to come to life and she wasn’t sure how she was going to survive it. After all, she had intimate knowledge of how they all looked when they were naked and sweaty and satisfied. Watching as their hands caressed each other and their lips explored hard angles and planes revved her engines just as much as when those same hands roved over her soft curves.
Maeve stripped off her own clothes before leaning against the closed bedroom door. Though highly aroused, she was content to watch them strip and play as she contemplated the twists and turns her life had taken in the three months since she had died. Yes, died! She shook her head, still finding it hard to believe that all her current happiness was because she was murdered. She remembered waking up in a strange bed with three strange faces staring back at her and she had never been so afraid in her whole life. Three months and a whole lot of stress later, she woke up every morning to those same three faces. The only difference? Now they weren’t strange to her; they were beloved.
Deciding the boys had had enough playtime – and prep time – Maeve was about to join them when Gabe spoke; “Maeve ... come here.”
She shivered, the dominant tenor of Gabe’s voice caused her legs to clench tightly and her sex to tingle. She heard Lucian groan and watched as his head dropped back on the bed, exposing the tanned line of his neck. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one who liked it when Gabe got bossy in the bedroom. Maeve forced her legs to move, her heightened senses taking in the sounds and smells in the room. Delicious, she thought to her herself. But out loud she said;
“Perfect. You’re all so perfect,” she promised them, climbing onto the huge bed and pressing herself against Gabe’s dark, muscled chest.
She felt his rumble as he replied, “You’re the perfect one,” before his lips took hers in a searing kiss.
Talented hands she knew to be Lucian’s gripped her hips from behind, even as two sharp fangs teased her throbbing pulse. She arched her back, offering herself to him, offering herself to all of them. She knew the move forced her breasts into the air, their hard tips begging to be touched. Three masculine groans met her ears a second before six hands crazily mapped her body. Maeve kept her eyes closed, delighting in the way the lack of vision allowed her to revel in the sounds and smells in the room. She nearly came unglued when three mouths settled upon her; a hybrid mouth on her breast, a vampire mouth on her spine, and a werewolf mouth on her ...
Maeve cried out, gripping Bishop’s long hair roughly as his tongue delved into her soaked depths. She panted, squirming in their combined grip, more than a little turned on when they didn’t allow her to escape their hold. It took mere minutes for her to explode under the focused attention of her men, and she screamed out her pleasure, muttering incoherent words of praise and love. Firm lips kissed her gently, easing her down from her bliss. She smiled against Gabe’s mouth, feeling smug and satisfied. And we haven’t even gotten to the main event yet, she thought, dreamily.
With little time to bask, she was quickly manoeuvred horizontally on the bed until her butt was nearly hanging off and her legs were draped over Lucian’s forearms. His fangs glittered in the low light filtering through the blinds and she arched her neck, already envisioning the ecstasy she knew would come when he sank those hard teeth into her body. Given she had spent the first twenty-eight years of her life actively avoiding being bitten, it was a major life change for her. But then, when you apparently smelled like some kind of speciality food to all the supernaturals on the planet, avoiding teeth had been a must. But after becoming an all-powerful, mythical, forbidden werewolf-vampire hybrid, biting – and clawing – took on a whole new meaning.
From her splayed position, she watched as Bishop stood behind Lucian and Gabe took up a similar position behind Bishop. She swallowed audibly, throat suddenly dry. “We’re having a congo line?” she croaked.
Lucian grinned down at her, lust and love shining in his eyes. “You bet we are. A sex congo line. My idea,” he winked at her.
She grinned at him, “Gods, I love you.”
Lucian leaned down to nuzzle her cheek, muttering an ‘I love you’ back before he lined himself up and pushed into her willing body. A decadent moan escaped her parted lips when she felt him finally bottom out. All of her men were so built. She desperately wanted Lucian to take his fill of her but she held back her impatience. She had already had her fun once and it now it was their turn. And it was a huge moment for them. Although they had cemented their relationship with promises and words of love, they had yet to claim each other on a primal level in the same way they had her. And she had no doubt that’s what it was; a claiming.
Her eyes glittered as she watched the guys groan and squirm their way through that initial coming together of bodies. Her position afforded her a front row seat and Maeve took in the expressions on the men’s faces, greedily – awe and pleasure. So much pleasure. She couldn’t help grinning, knowing that now the ice had been broken, there would be plenty more of the same sort of pleasure to be had. It was a little awkward at first, with each of them trying to find a rhythm that worked. But they managed it, and within minutes the four of them were moving in perfect harmony, nothing but desire stamped on faces and love stamped in their hearts.
A sneaky hand tweaking her left nipple had her attention refocusing on her own pleasure and she was surprised at just how close she was to that final peak once again. Maeve clenched her internal muscles, wringing a tortured groan from Lucian. His eyes flashed red and he lowered his head, razor sharp fangs embedding deep into breast tissue. Her orgasm was instantaneous, her body locking down on the hard shaft pounding into her. She gasped, unable to make another sound as Lucian licked her wound closed, his rhythm stuttering before he too, fell over the edge. Their release was enough to cause a chain reaction in the other two and Maeve watched as Bishop thrust erratically into Lucian a few more times before literally howling his way through his orgasm. Gabe followed seconds later, his hard grip on Bishop’s hips causing dents in the fairer man’s skin. Gabe’s growl came deep from his chest and his eyes squeezed shut as if the pleasure was too much to bear.
Minutes – or hours – later, Maeve puffed, mentally reminding her wonderfully used body that it needed to breathe, “Well, if that didn’t break the curse, I don’t know what will.”
“I’m not cursed! There is no such thing as hexes!”
They all ignored Bishop’s swift retort, laughing and collapsing together onto their big bed. No, Maeve thought. There was no such thing as hexes. But as she listened to the heartbeats of her three lovers, she couldn’t help but think miracles were real.
Bishop stood barefoot and bare-chested in their kitchen the following morning, allegedly making the eats. He had noble intentions to spoil his exhausted lovers with a banquet of whatever breakfast-type foods could be reasonably prepared with limited skill. But thus far, all he’d made was a pretty impressive tent from his boxers. Nominated by the blissfully sated group in the room next door as their gofer for caffeine and breakfast goods, he’d reluctantly left them still tangled together amongst the sheets to fetch much needed, and – he chuckled to himself – well-deserved sustenance.
Now however, rather than putting on the pot of coffee his limbic system craved so badly or even popping some bread into the toaster, he instead stood, palms on the counter, slightly mesmerised by the branches swaying outside the window. As they tilted leisurely in the breeze, he happily catalogued the delicious new sensations vying for attention inside his body; aching shoulders and stretched muscles all testament to three spirited rounds of love-making and some very energetic and flexible workmanship by everyone involved. After such an incredible and mind-altering experience, just getting out of bed had been an exercise in control and he thought he deserved props for not submitting to Luci’s very serious suggestion that they forget the traditional notion of breakfast and instead become one sexy vampire-hybrid-werewolf-pancake and try all their moves again. Only this time, dripping in syrup. Bishop could admit that the idea was intriguing but luckily he had enough presence of mind to realise that he needed to get some air – otherwise the heady scent of their combined lust would continue to tantalise and probably engulf him until he quite contentedly starved to death in that bed. He grinned. A fun way to go but not a scene he needed Sam called out to.
Tearing his gaze away from the window, Bishop glanced down at his pants soldier as it continued to stubbornly salute the morning. Like the majority of guys, he woke up most mornings with the flag being run up the pole and until a few months ago he’d grown accustomed to dealing with the situation himself. Now, as he flicked aroused eyes in the direction of their combined bedroom he gave GI. Joe the temporary order to stand down, knowing that after breakfast there would be three very willing volunteers to thoroughly take care of the mission. He was also really looking forward to returning the favour. Just the idea of it had all the blood leaving his brain and pooling south of the border but he was nothing if not stubborn himself. He’d promised to make breakfast and he would damn well deliver.
Dragging over-long hair back from his face and trying to ignore his throbbing crotch as best he could, he instead rolled his shoulders and finally put on the coffee he’d been longing for. With just that small action, Bishop recognised that there would be some twinges associated with his movements today, although given the circumstances he didn’t mind in the least. In fact, rather than try to stretch the kinks out, he took a rare moment to revel in them. The best bit was that he could recall the moment in which each and every small pang originated, and playing those over in his mind now brought a grin to his face that not even today’s date could wipe away.
It might be the thirtieth of October, only one day until Halloween, but today wasn’t a date he would remember or even care about. Yesterday, on the other hand, would be an anniversary scorched into his memory until the end of time. That staggering instant when they had all finally come together as one, was quite possibly the most fulfilling moment of his life. As soon as Gabe made that first move – and bless his hybrid soul for having the steel balls to do it – everything had suddenly seemed so natural. And the best bit? His lovers’ sighs of pleasure and moans of contentment as he rolled over their bare arses to get to the kitchen. Those sounds were validation – not that proof was needed – that they all felt the same way he did.
Whole.
“Huh, you’re still here.”
Bishop startled at the surprised amusement in Maeve’s voice and spun away from the still empty toaster to see her pad seductively into the kitchen, her perfect body draped only in a thin sheet. As his eyes roved hungrily over her curves, hers seemed to do the same; an expression of wanting on her face as she took everything in. When she paused on the triangle his boxers made, he saw a smile play at the corner of her mouth. Her lips were a little red and puffy from all the attention they’d received and just seeing them so ravaged made the wolf in him want to nip at her again. Clearing what suddenly felt like sand from his throat, he asked gruffly, “Where did you expect to find me?”
“Well,” slowly dragging her attention north, Maeve wet her lips with a sensuous flick of her tongue, “given that you’ve been out here for close to thirty minutes we wondered if you had changed your mind about the syrup and gone to get supplies.” She laughed, “Luci is going to be so disappointed.”
“Thirty minutes?” he found the clock on the wall and realised it had been more like forty-five. Jeez, he’d been staring out the window all lovestruck and moon-eyed like a teenager and completely lost track of time. And if he didn’t still feel so damn good about everything, he might be embarrassed.
Maeve swung her gaze around the space, lingering on the coffee pot. “How about you bring that ... and that,” she pointed coyly and with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes to his obvious hard-on, “back to bed. Then we can all go out for breakfast ... and a little shopping,” she added quickly.
Bishop grabbed the coffee and mugs and followed her as though he were in a trance, his tented boxers pointing the way like a compass needle. It wasn’t until a good two hours later, when they were all sated and showered and ready to leave that her words finally sunk in. He was the last one out the door, shrugging into a jacket and locking up behind them, when the penny dropped and he called out, “Hang on, what did you mean about us going shopping?”
Maeve turned to smile at him over her shoulder and her whole face brightened. “Well of course we have to go shopping. For candy. After all, tomorrow is Halloween.”
She practically skipped in the direction of their car.
Gabe hung back and clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t feel bad that she distracted you with a sex trance. It happens to all of us.” He brushed his lips over Bish’s bristled jaw then offered tongue-in-cheek, “Want me to hold your hand so you don’t fall over? What with you being cursed and all.”
Bishop growled low in his throat and gave Gabriel a friendly but not too gentle shove. “Give it a rest. Nobody believes in hexes.”
Barely an hour after leaving the house, Lucian watched as a comically grim-faced Bishop stumbled out of the market, barely managing to keep hold of Maeve’s carefully selected bags of Halloween loot. Just past the check-out a whining kid wanting lollies – and not fruit – discarded his half-finished banana and dropped the peel at the burly werewolf’s feet. This resulted in a slip-and-slide which would have been amusing enough had the unchecked motion not sent Bish directly into the outstretched arms of a plastic, six-foot-five zombie featured in a festive window display. Finally free but still entangled in cobwebs and fake spiders, a red-faced Bishop stopped on the sidewalk to set the bags down with a grunt, chased by an inventive string of expletives. Exiting the store at that same moment, the mother of the banana-dropper scowled at their group, covering her boy’s ears and shuffling quickly past.
“I offered to hold his hand,” Gabe mumbled.
“Now might not be the best time to mention that.” Because Maeve was already picking arachnids out of Bishop’s hair, he bent to retrieve the shopping bags for their own safety, thinking it best to get them out of range. Standing, he raised one wicked eyebrow and threw caution to the wind, reminding his grumpy friend, “Gabe did offer to hold your hand, you know.”
“Not now, Luci.” Maeve tried to sound serious but there was mirth in her tone along with the reprimand.
Lucian could only grin at Gabe’s mouthed, what the fuck? and Bishop’s menacing scowl. “Sorry, I just couldn’t help myself,” he admitted, shrugging broad shoulders.
“Try.” Bishop growled. Plucking a final clump of fake cobweb from his jacket he looked around at their small group and attempted to recover some dignity. “Let’s get out of here, huh?”
“Great idea,” Gabe brightened. “Breakfast?”
Leading the way to a favourite café of theirs far from the horrors of the market, Lucian glanced back now and then to see Bishop following at a distance. “You okay back there, bud?”
“I’m fine,” Bishop grumbled back. “Just ─”
“Assessing risks?” Maeve fell back to peck him on the lips then take his hand. When she saw he was about to protest, she gave his fingers a hybrid-strength squeeze. “I’m not giving you a choice. You’re safe with me,” she assured him.
Lucian was just about to make a smart-arse remark when he noticed his friend’s head snap up and his hand pull away from Maeve’s. She had a momentarily hurt look on her face the second before all three of them registered Bishop’s shocked expression. Lucian and Gabe were at their werewolf’s side in the blink of an eye but Bish was already on the move, pointing;
“That’s him! That’s the hobo!”
Bishop’s strong legs ate up the pavement but even he couldn’t outrun two hybrids and a vampire. They caught up with him when he came to a skidding halt at the next corner, a wild look on his face as he spun in a tight circle, his eyes searching in all directions.
“You saw the hobo who put the hex on you? Where?” Maeve appeared on guard as she looked around them.
“I don’t know where he went.” Bishop muttered, distracted. Just then there was a shuffle of movement as a woman with a stroller revealed a gap in the mob of people standing at the crossing. “There! That’s the hobo – he’s the one wearing the navy-blue suit.”
Lucian followed Bishop’s finger and saw that it was pointing at a well-groomed middle-aged man. The guy had a pricey-looking brown leather satchel slung over one shoulder and a haircut he could be envious of. “Are you sure that’s him? I mean, he doesn’t have his dick out or anything,” Lucian pointed out.
“You sound disappointed,” Gabe raised an eyebrow at him.
Lucian winked, “Well, I did glimpse it before. It was the only part that was memorable to me.”
Bishop either didn’t hear them or pretended not to. He pounced on the guy before the lights could change.
With his hands bunched at the man’s collar, Bishop lifted him, heels off the ground, to demand, “You thought you could put a curse on me and get away with it? Seriously?!”
Lucian, Gabe, and Maeve watched on entranced as the gentleman tried ineffectually to bat Bishop’s hands away. In a cultured British accent, he stuttered;
“Easy there, Mr Rambo. Think you could dial down the enthusiasm just a little?”
Looking a little shocked to hear the accented words, Bishop pressed on regardless, putting the man down but using his vise-like grip to drag them nose-to-nose. As the crowd parted around them and a few onlookers took out their phones, he growled, “Remove it, right now.”
“Remove what?” The man found his aplomb and realising he was being filmed began to sound outraged rather than afraid. “Take your hands off of me!”
“I’ll put it this way; remove the hex,” Bishop, flinty-eyed, warned in a lethal whisper by the man’s cheek, “or lose your ear. I remember you were so fond of mine, after all.”
“Oookaay. I think that’s enough.” As much as Lucian enjoyed seeing his lover engage in shows of brute strength, things were beginning to get a little out-of-hand and he was starting to question Bishop’s judgement in the matter – something that had never happened before. Shouldering his way between the two men and successfully loosening Bishop’s grip, he managed to free the poor Brit so that the man could scuttle safely across the road. “Well he’s going to book a flight back to London and never return,” Luci mumbled to himself.
Bishop immediately rounded on the vampire, “You let him get away. Why did you let him get away?”
“Correction,” Lucian held up a calming hand, “I let British George Clooney get away. That man who almost wet his pants just now wasn’t your guy. For one, he was wearing pants! And two, he didn’t look like any hobo I have ever seen. His shoes probably cost more than your entire wardrobe.”
“Yeah, well I never forget a face,” Bishop muttered angrily. “And that was his!”
“And I thought you didn’t believe in hexes,” Lucian countered. “But here we all are.”
Maeve sat on the couch watching Bishop as he walked the length of their living room for the hundredth time, muttering to himself. She’d catch phrases like; that was him or how did he manage it, but she couldn’t seem to get him to sit down and talk to her.
“He still doing that?” Gabe came out of the kitchen with a Pepsi in his hand. “Do you think I should try and talk to him?”
“Go nuts. I hope you have better luck than me.” Tucking her legs beneath her on the lounge, she watched Bishop reach the wall, pivot and walk back again. She shook her head. This was getting ridiculous.
“Still doing the Rain Man thing, I see,” Lucian joined their crew. Glancing sidelong at Gabe’s Pepsi, he snagged it and took a long swallow before handing it back. “Thanks.”
“Hey! Manners,” Gabe grumbled.
“Oh please,” Luci grinned unrepentantly. “After the places my mouth has explored on you, I’m pretty sure my lips on that can are harmless.”
Maeve watched the grin her two men shared and her heart was warmed by it. Right now though, it was her other man she was worried about. Taking charge, she stood up and held out a hand, pulling Bishop to sit down with her and forcing him to look at her. With her hands framing his rough cheeks, she demanded, “Talk to me.”
Bishop examined the lounge beneath them with hesitation. “Are you sure you want to sit next to me? This thing might catch on fire.”
His mouth quirked in a lopsided grin but Maeve could tell he was still being semi-serious. “Of course I want to sit with you,” she chided. “You are not hexed or cursed and you do not have the evil eye, because all of that is rubbish.” She leaned in and kissed him soundly. “And even if you were hexed I would still be sitting here. I took my chances with all of you once and I’m not running away now.”
“That goes for me too.” Gabe came around the back of the lounge and laid a hand on Bishop’s shoulder.
“And me ... if you’ll still have me after I saved the silver fox,” Lucian winked.
Bishop scrubbed a hand over his face. “It wasn’t your fault,” he admitted, looking up. “It was me ... I had a run of bad luck and I got a little spooked.”
“And almost strangled a harmless tourist.”
Maeve shot Lucian another warning look – one she’d been practising – but Bishop seemed oddly okay with it. He even smiled a little abashedly.
“Christ, I did almost strangle a George Clooney body-double in broad daylight, didn’t I?” He let out a hoarse laugh. “I think I could use a drink.” Laying a gentle hand on Maeve’s leg and smiling tiredly and apologetically at Gabe and Lucian, he stood up only to trip on the rug and stumble a few steps.
The room was deathly quiet save for three sharp intakes of breath. Three pairs of eyes watched as Bishop regained his footing and strode carefully to where the scotch bottle rested on the rack on the kitchen island.
“I’m fine,” he murmured. “Everyone trips on that rug. It’s a hazard.”
Maeve tried to think of a time when anyone had tripped on the rug but her mind came up blank. Surely it was just an unlucky coincidence.
Bishop uncorked the bottle and took two swallows before grabbing a tumbler and pouring a generous three fingers.
Upon hearing the bone-chilling growl, Maeve moved with lightning speed. Her claws were extended past her fingertips and her fangs elongated by the time she reached the front door. It was Halloween morning and Bishop had just ventured outside to retrieve the newspaper. Maeve wrenched open the door, the hinges barely surviving the violent movement, only to be brought up short by the scene in front of her. There was Bishop, in all his shifted werewolf glory, bronze fur bristled high as he growled with menace at ...
“Is that a squirrel?” Lucian's voice spun her around and she saw he was leaning casually against the doorframe, eating a bowl of cereal.
Maeve opened and closed her mouth, unsure what to say. Because her lover was indeed in some strange standoff with a small, furry animal. One, who instead of running in fear from the enormous apex predator, was standing on its hind legs reprimanding the angry wolf.
“And I thought dying and turning into a mythical creature was the weirdest thing I would ever see,” she murmured, unable to take her gaze from the tableau in front of her. Bishop again rumbled deep in his throat and this time Maeve noticed the slight arching of his back and bunching shoulders – both indicators he might be about to pounce. Feeling a surge of protective panic, she moved at a speed only a hybrid could be capable of, positioning herself as bodyguard.
“Fun-sponge,” Lucian smirked around a mouthful of cereal. “This was just about to get interesting; breakfast and a show.”
“Interesting?” Maeve was aghast. “Letting Bishop attack a defenceless little forest creature is considered interesting to you?”
“He wouldn’t hurt it ... I don’t think.”
But as their lover’s fur bristled in shuddering waves along his back, Maeve thought Luci might be wrong. And something is definitely wrong here, she thought to herself. Holding out a restraining hand to Bishop-as-wolf, she scolded, “Down. That’s enough from you.”
Bishop’s wolf sat on its haunches.
Maeve also noticed Bishop’s ears flatten submissively at her command and she took that moment to kneel on the concrete and cautiously study their guest. Their furry visitor was still countering the wolf’s display of dominance with a tirade of angry squirrel chirping and a show of tiny, if sharply chiselled teeth, but when she examined the little thing more closely, Maeve felt her heart melt and her ovaries suddenly fire a cannon of internal bat signals. She was such a sucker. It was the same with puppies, kittens, bunnies and even the tiny little baby clothes she saw online. The menace she’d expected to encounter when she threw open the door was just so freaking loveable and adorable enough to have her blabbering nonsensical conversation. “How could anyone be scared of you?” Maeve murmured over-indulgently whilst slowly extended a hand.
“Do you really think you should touch it?” Lucian asked a little hesitantly. “I mean, jokes aside there must be a reason it’s gotten our favourite werewolf so worked up.”
Upon hearing that, Bishop let out a low whine in the affirmative.
“Nonsense,” Maeve tutted, still quietly cooing at her new friend. The squirrel, apparently sensing an ally, shuffled nearer, allowing her to pet it on the head with a gentle finger.
“Now you’ve done it. Now we’re going to be two hybrids, a vampire, a werewolf, and a squirrel,” Luci muttered under his breath. “Next it will be a cat.”
“But it’s so cute,” she beamed. Turning that full-voltage smile on Lucian, she demanded, “Just look at its bushy tail and tell me you don’t love it. We should name it!”
“Name it?!”
Those words were enough to shake Bishop loose from his animal form and he stood, gloriously naked, glaring at the duo with a burnt-caramel wolfish gleam still lingering in his eyes.
“That ... thing,” he pointed and bellowed loud enough to wake their neighbours, “is a monster. It’s the same one that bit me and practically left me for dead!”
Lucian coughed and spat cereal. “Oh yes, I’m sure it was touch-and-go for a while.”
Bishop’s growl was clearly directed at Lucian, but his eyes remained riveted on Maeve. “Just ease away slowly,” he warned. “No sudden movements.”
The squirrel turned adoring eyes away from Maeve to stamp one foot at its accuser. Then, with a twitch of its ears and a swish of its fuzzy tail, it sprang away into the bushes. “Aw, you scared it.” Maeve turned on Bishop and accused, “Why are you being such a meanie?”
“Me?! I’m not being the meanie. “It ...” Bishop pointed in the direction of the foliage, “was trespassing! That’s a serious crime and I don’t think it’s a coincidence he showed up here either. That creature is stalking me!”
“Okay, wow!” Maeve’s eyes popped wide. “Do you realise you sound ridiculous?”
At that moment Sam’s car pulled up in the street and they were all made suddenly aware of the very public scene they were making; Lucian choking down cereal whilst Maeve stood hands on hips reprimanding a very naked Bishop. Lucian was the first to recover;
“Heya Sam,” he waved a welcoming spoon in the air. “Happy Halloween.”
Maeve watched as beside her, Bishop hastily grabbed his torn and discarded clothing, using it to cover up as best he could. The blush that rose to his cheeks made her grin in greeting. “Hi Sam. You just missed the excitement.”
Easing closed his car door, Bishop’s partner averted his eyes modestly and shook his head. “I’m not sure I have the energy for that much excitement before eight in the morning. I’m more of a do it on the weekend, keep my socks on, type of guy.”
Maeve saw Bishop’s blush deepen to scarlet and because she was having fun making her lover uncomfortable, made no move to correct Sam’s assumption. As Bishop hustled inside with a distracted signal and his bare butt mooning the neighbourhood, she made his apologies. “He’ll be ready in a minute.”
Sam jerked a thumb at the car. “Actually, I think I might grab coffee and come back.”
“Good idea,” Lucian confirmed. “If this morning is any indication then you’re in for a long day.”
Close to thirty minutes later, Sam’s car was idling at the kerb but when Bishop got in the man let out a loud sigh.
“What was that for?” Bishop grunted.
“You’re late. Again.” He passed his friend a coffee gone cold.
“Thanks.” Bish checked his watch. Sam was right. “But this time I have a good excuse.” He tried to think of one not involving a round of impromptu and surprisingly raunchy shower sex and really didn’t want to explain the follow-up scene with the squirrel. If it hadn’t been for the damned furry rodent on their doorstep he would have been on time ... probably. And in all seriousness, when you had Maeve plus three guys all built like they were, giving and receiving orgasms in a confined shower space, it was bound to take a little time. He scratched idly at his beard, “I had a plumbing problem – I might need a new shower.” A bigger one, he thought. Much bigger and with jets. Maybe if I locate the damned hobo I’ll survive long enough to use it.
“A plumbing problem? Uh huh. And why exactly were you flashing the old lady who lives across the street? I saw her peeking out her curtains when I pulled up.” Easing them into traffic, Sam turned in the usual direction of the precinct.
Bishop sighed and grouchily adjusted the tie trying to strangle him at the neck. “That was a whole different problem. One that I intend to fix today. Turn right up here.”
“Right?” Sam looked sidelong at his partner and asked curiously, “Where are we going?”
“To remove a hex,” Bishop mumbled the words so quietly they were barely audible over the radio.
“To what? What are we removing?” As requested Sam made the turn. “Where to?”
“I don’t know,” Bishop admitted, “but we’re going to spend the day combing this city inch by inch.”
Sam jerked the car to the kerb and looked around them. “Buddy, you’re acting strange. Now before I drive anywhere else I want you to tell me what the heck we’re doing and what you need removed. Is this medical?”
“It is not medical!” Bishop gave up on his tie and threw his hands in the air. “The hex! We have to remove the hex because I don’t have a clue how to find the damned spirit of Halloween and at this rate I don’t think I’ll live long enough to manage it!”
“That’s what you’re so worked up about? You really think you’ve been hexed?”
Sam burst out laughing and kept laughing until the laughter developed into a snort and then a choked wheeze and Bishop wondered whether his partner was having some kind of attack.
When he’d calmed down enough to draw breath, Sam blubbered with tears streaming down his face, “That’s why you’ve been so on edge lately!”
“Sam,” Bishop tried to make him see the seriousness of the situation. “In the past week I have almost fallen over sixty-seven times.” He listed off more items using his fingers. More proof that he was seriously cursed. “My car wouldn’t start, I was ticketed, I’ve tripped on a freaking banana peel and danced with a zombie, I’ve been splattered with ice-cream, I’ve trodden in shit, a bird dropped its shit on the shoulder of my new jacket, I’ve been bitten, scratched and stalked by a seriously pissed off squirrel.” His eyes searched his partner’s face imploringly, “I’m a werewolf, Sam, and I’m being harassed by a damn squirrel.”
Trying not to laugh but with his eyes still fever-bright with amusement, Sam laid a reassuring hand on his partner’s shoulder. “You’re not cursed. It was just a dumb prank,” he admitted. “Funny though.”
Bishop barely heard him. “I don’t think you understand. That hobo from the station has put a legitimate hex on me and it’s slowly ruining my life. That’s why we’re spending the day tracking him down.”
“Bishop, buddy, I need you to listen to me and repeat my words. There. Is. No. Curse. I hired an old actor friend of mine. His name’s Gregory and with the help of some of the guys at the station we dressed him up to play an early Halloween prank on you. And in my defence, Gregory has a habit of going off-script – that hex business was all improvisation on his part ... nothing to do with me.”
“Gregory ...” Bishop turned the name over on his tongue, anger bubbling up inside him like magma. “Does Gregory happen to have a British accent?”
“He has a lot of accents ... he’s kind of eccentric. But you,” Sam began to dissemble at seeing the obvious rage contorting his partner’s face, “you deserved this. You’ve been on time to work only twice this month and now that you’re all loved up I’m the one forced to deal with crazy Suzi Ann. Do you know she’s reported three possible homicides because each time she hopes you’ll show up to question her? Instead, she gets me and now she phones my extension every other day just to ‘talk’.” Sam’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “Trust me, you do not want to know the things she talks about!”
Bishop took three, slow, even breaths. “Let me get this straight; you thought I wasn’t quite pulling my weight so you had a witch-doctor dress up as sexualised hobo and curse me?! Well, this is just fantastic. You’re a real friend, Sam.”
“Gregory isn’t a witch-doctor. He might not have made it big yet but he’s done some musicals and a couple of commercials ... the one advertising haemorrhoid cream, he was in that.”
Now that Sam mentioned it, Bishop did recall the ad with a dancing haemorrhoid holding a tube of lotion ... and the haemorrhoid did have a familiar face. “Today just keeps getting worse,” he snarled. “I was licked by the haemorrhoid guy!”
“But not hexed,” Sam, pointed out. “That’s the important part, right?”
Floundering somewhere between anger and absolute embarrassment, Bishop shrugged, “Then how do you explain all the odd stuff that’s been happening? I didn’t just imagine that angry rodent this morning!”
Now that he wasn’t in any obvious and immediate danger, Sam smiled, “You had some bad luck, it happens.”
“Hmmm.” At that moment there was a loud crash and their car was jolted forward. Sam cursed and swung around in his seat but Bishop didn’t even turn his head. “What happened?” he muttered drily.
“Some idiot driver just ran up our arse! Dammit, you just requested this model! We’re going to have to drive a squad car while this one is out of commission.”
“I really liked this car.”
“I know. Let me go talk to this moron.” Sam was half out the door when he turned around. “This is not part of the hex you know.”
“Whatever you say, Sam,” Bishop muttered. “Whatever you say.”
Fearing the worst, Maeve was pottering around inside the townhouse, tweaking decorations and basically keeping busy until Bishop arrived safely home from work. He’d called at lunch to tell her about the minor accident and whilst they were talking she’d overheard him growl at a hot-dog vendor whose street-cart had apparently run out of mustard just moments before. He’d also informed her about Sam’s prank. Maeve had to give Sam props because the idea was funny. Unfortunately for her sexy but irascible werewolf-cop, he really did seem to be having the worst luck. It just went to show that the mind was a powerful thing.
“A kiss for your thoughts ...?”
Warm arms snaked around her as sharp fangs travelled teasingly over the pounding pulse-point in her neck. Maeve sighed in contentment, angling her head for easier access. “I think that’s supposed to be a penny – a penny for your thoughts,” she informed Lucian.
“I like my version better,” he replied, lips traversing her skin before finally coming to rest over hers.
Maeve moaned, arching into his body, silently admitting that she much preferred his version too. A few decadent minutes later, they broke apart, smiling at each other. “I was just thinking about Bishop and his run of bad luck. He had himself so worked up over that non-existent curse, that he basically turned himself into a bad luck magnet.”
Luci grunted at that, taking a step back as he looked out the front window. “He really did. I know I gave him a hard time – because, let’s be honest; it was funny as fuck. But I was beginning to get genuinely worried about him.”
Maeve sighed, “Me too.”
“Ditto.”
Maeve’s heart gave a hard thump upon hearing Gabriel’s deep voice. She turned, unable to stop her eyes from taking in all that dark chocolate skin. She licked her lips and saw Gabe’s eyes narrow and his nostrils flare. Her men were all so different in their looks, but damn if they all didn’t ring her bell equally. Gabe had her wrapped in his arms, kissing her senseless, before she could even take a step. Melting against him, she revelled in his solid presence, grateful that all of them would be together for most of the evening. Gabe would be starting his shift at midnight, but for at least six hours, all four of them would be home.
Pulling back, she asked, “You were worried too, huh?”
Gabe ran a hand over his shorn locks, “How could I not be? Bish is one of the most confident, take-no-prisoners men I have ever met. To see him second guessing himself and in a constant state of stress? Yeah, I was worried.”
“Oh, no. Gabe, I don’t think that’s the case at all,” Lucian said, stepping up beside them and running hands over their lover’s back.
“What’s not the case?” Maeve asked, a little confused but fully aware Lucian had obviously overheard something from Gabe’s mind.
Her big paramedic sighed, “I was worried maybe Bishop was externalising his stress about, well, the us situation.”
“Us situation?” Maeve parroted.
“Yeah. You know,” he gestured to himself, Lucian, and then Maeve. “All of us being together. Let’s face it, there have been a lot of changes in all our lives recently. Maybe this was a way for him to vent his frustrations ... and his fears.”
Maeve thought about that for a moment and could see where Gabe was coming from. She felt a pinch of unease but quickly shook her head. “No. Like Lucian said; I don’t believe that’s the case.”
“Maeve’s right; you’re an idiot.”
They all spun at the deep voice. Maeve was relieved to see Bishop home – and in one piece. He looked clean and uninjured – if a little tired. She couldn’t help the automatic smile his presence caused but she also added on a sigh. “I didn’t say Gabe was an idiot,” she pointed out.
Bishop shrugged, dumping his jacket and shrugging out of his shoulder harness. He carefully stowed his service weapon in the lockbox before prowling closer and grabbing Gabe, laying a possessive kiss on his lips. Pulling back, he rested his forehead against Gabe’s, “You’re an idiot. But –” he said quickly and loudly before anyone could interrupt, “I love you anyway. I love all of you. Always. Forever. Until the end of time. You’re all mine. And I’m all yours. Understand?”
Gabe smiled, rubbing his head against Bishop’s. “Yeah. I understand.”
Bishop kissed him hard one last time before stepping back and including them all in his gaze. “And I’m sorry I caused you even a second of worry concerning us. I’ve been a little out of sorts, I admit. And not myself. But that has nothing to do with our family here. It’s solid. We’re solid,” he promised.
Lucian ran a hand down Bishop’s arm, linking their fingers and giving them a squeeze. “Good to know. Now, about this hex ...”
Bishop grunted, “What hex? I told you there was no such thing.”
They all looked at Bishop in silence for a moment before cracking up hysterically. They all knew Bishop had fallen for Sam’s trick; hook, line, and sinker.
“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. I may have gotten a little overwhelmed by the situation. But, the important point to remember is that I am not cursed – because curses don’t exist.” He flopped down on the lounge behind him, pulling Maeve with him and causing her to squeak at the abruptness of the motion. He grinned a little evilly, rearranging her to his satisfaction, “But do you know what does exist?”
“What?” Maeve questioned, a little hesitantly from where she now straddled him.
“Revenge.”
Maeve groaned, “No. Please tell me you are not going to start a prank war with your partner, mentor, and father-figure?”
“You bet your tasty butt I am. Sam won’t know when. And he won’t know how. But I will have my revenge.”
Bishop’s eyes were fever-bright and though Maeve was concerned for poor Sam, she was just so glad to see Bishop in high spirits again. She threaded her fingers through his thick, shaggy hair bringing his mouth up to hers and rocking her core against his quickly-hardening body. She felt as well as heard his answering rumble, the alluring scents of her other two men hitting her and making her head spin. Oh, yes. She was very glad to have all of them together for the next few hours. But just as Bishop’s hands were getting busy under her shirt, and two other pairs of lips were nibbling their way up her neck, the doorbell rang.
Bishop growled and swore simultaneously. “Seriously? Can’t a horny werewolf catch a break here?”
The other two men laughed and Maeve giggled as well. “Babe, it’s Halloween, remember? It will be trick or treaters.” Maeve pointed out, pushing herself off the pouting wolf and jumping to her feet. She was excited to give out her first bunch of goodies.
“Tell them to fuck off,” Bishop suggested, causing the other two morons in the room with penises to laugh hysterically once again and clutch each other.
Maeve pursed her lips, hands on hips. “Bishop! I will do no such thing. This is my first real Halloween, remember? Besides, have your learned nothing this past week? Maybe naked-hobo-ear-licker-man ... um, Gregory,” she corrected, “was onto something; maybe you should try to find the real spirit of Halloween.”
Bishop eyed her, wolfy eyes flashing. He glanced at Lucian and Gabe – who smiled in encouragement. He sighed, pushing himself up and striding toward her with his long, powerful legs. “Fine. Give me the candy. This will really prove my love for you. You know that, right?”
Maeve smiled, placing soft hands against his bristly cheeks. “You don’t ever have to prove your love to me. I see it. I feel it. In every part of me.”
The last vestiges of tension oozed from his broad shoulders and he pecked her affectionately on the lips. “How’d I get so lucky?” He asked, giving her a roguish wink before walking to the front door. Bishop looked over his shoulder one last time, love shining in his eyes, encompassing herself as well as Lucian and Gabriel in the non-physical embrace, before opening the door.
Bishop smiled at the tiny X-men replicas standing on the porch, “Happy Halloween.”
THE END
If you enjoyed Forbidden Hex, book 1.5, by Montana Ash and T.J. Spade, be sure to check out book 1 in the Forbidden series, FORBIDDEN HYBRID, before book 2 hits your kindles!
Maeve, Bishop, Lucian, and Gabe will be back in Forbidden Mating in 2019.