The Shifter and the Witch
Chapter 1

Lucy

What do I do when I hear a ruckus coming from the bowels of an alley? I investigate, of course. If there’s a fight going on, I want in.

Using my powers, I teleport to the rooftop of one of the buildings siding the alley. From my perch, I can see that there is indeed a fight in progress. And it’s the kind I like best. There are demons involved.

The assholes have a male cornered. I assume the male is either a witch like me or some other type of magical being. He has to be. A human fighting alone against two demons would have been toast pretty quickly.

The guy might be in a bit of a pickle at the moment, but that doesn’t stop me from noticing that he’s pretty hot. He’s wearing a T-shirt and jeans, and both are snug enough that I don’t need to wonder if he works out. It’s clear he does. He’s got well-defined biceps, a firm physique, muscular thighs, and a very nice ass. And his face? He looks kinda like a dark-haired Chris Hemsworth.

If the guy isn’t a model, he should be. He’d make bank.

As I watch, the guy knocks one of the demons off his feet with a right uppercut.

Okay. Forget modeling. This guy should be a UFC fighter. Knocking a demon on his ass with one punch is impressive.

The thought that this guy doesn’t need my help barely crosses my mind when two more demons appear in the alley below.

I hitch up the left leg of my jeans and pull out the knife hidden in my boot. It’s one of many knives I have on me, but it’s the one I usually go for first.

The demon that ‘Hemsworth’ sent to the ground regains his feet and helps his brethren corral ‘Hemsworth’ into a corner.

Not good.

I grip my knife and get ready to fight. I’m about to teleport myself down to the alley when ‘Hemsworth’ gets down on all fours.That makes me pause.

I’d assumed the guy was a witch, but it looks like he might be a werewolf. As I watch, he quickly shifts forms. His limbs change shape, his handsome face elongates, and his skin sprouts fur.

Yup. He’s a werewolf.

As a man, he’s an Adonis. As a wolf, he’s beastly large, larger than any dog I’ve ever seen. His fur is a beautiful jet black, and his teeth and paws are huge. His size alone is intimidating, but when he bares his fangs and growls deep and long, and low? I get chills. Delicious chills.

His species status doesn’t change the fact that he needs help. Moving back into action, I disappear off the roof and teleport to the ground behind the four extra-large-sized demons.

“Can I join?” I ask sweetly.

I gift the first ugly-ass demon that whirls to face me a saucy smile and quickly follow that up with a stab of my athame to his temple. Satisfaction fills me as I yank my knife free and watch the lifeless body fall to the ground and turn into a small pile of ash.

There’s one good thing I can say about demons – I don’t have to dispose of their bodies after I kill them. I appreciate that.

Ugly demon number two comes at me. He sports the same blue skin as his recently deceased compatriot. He’s got the same horns, the same claws, and the same snarl. I wasn’t intimidated by the first demon, and I’m certainly not intimidated by the second. I bend, catching him in the stomach with my shoulder, stand, and flip him ass over horn. Spinning around, I plant a booted foot on his barrel chest to keep him down and introduce his heart to the pointy end of my blade.

Two down.

Demon number three comes at me from the side, and I gracefully sidestep him. This asshole has dark red skin, bigger horns than the smurfy demons, and a tail. I boot him in the back as he goes by, sending him sprawling into one of the piles of mysterious yuckiness that sully the pavement. He doesn’t like that, and I don’t blame him (the floor of this alley’s pretty gross), but I also don’t give a rat’s furry behind that he’s getting dirty.

He growls viciously, a blur of red as he regains his feet. His tail swishes back and forth. I’m not sure if the swishing is just because he’s pissed, or if he’s trying to dislodge the piece of rotten lettuce that’s now stuck to his tail.

Again, I don’t give a rat’s behind.

I smirk at him. Braced in a fighting position, I wait for him to make a move. In the back of my mind, I wonder why demon number four hasn’t come at me yet. Usually, demons aren’t so polite as to wait their turn to attack. A quick look over my shoulder answers my question. Demon number four has a werewolf nipping at his balls.

I turn back to demon number three, and my eyes immediately go to the fireball now hovering over the palm of his raised hand. He launches it at me. Quickly, I raise my hand as if to catch the fireball and use my powers to stop it in midair halfway between me and the demon. With a flick of my wrist, I send it back at him. Lucky for me, his reflexes suck, and I have the satisfaction of ending him with his own weapon.

That makes three down.

I turn to check on the wolf’s sitch and roll my eyes when I see he and his opponent are still in the flirting stage of their fight.

“End him already.” I prod and make a ‘hurry it along’ gesture with my knife-wielding hand.

Two sets of eyes turn on me. One red. One bright silvery blue. ‘Red-eyes’ squares off with me. If looks could kill...well, I’d be dead a million times over already, so one more of those looks from a demon doesn’t phase me. ‘Red-eyes’ growls at me and slowly stalks toward me. A fireball comes to life above the hand he’s holding out to his side. With the demon’s attention focused on me, I assume the wolf will take advantage of the opening and kill him. When he doesn’t, I flick a frown his way.

What are you waiting for, wolfy? I’ve got the demon’s attention. Why are you just standing there, like a frickin’ tool?

While wolfy makes like a statue, I narrow my eyes on the demon. I throw my athame before the demon has a chance to pitch his fireball at me. My aim is flawless. I nail him right in the heart. Black blood leaks from the hole I just made in the demon’s torso. That blood trails down his front as he slowly collapses to the ground.

And I’m four for four. Go me. It’s too bad I can’t make a living killing demons.

I straighten and sweep my ponytail back over my shoulder as I head over to retrieve my knife from the demon’s corpse.

“Who the hell are you?” a male voice growls.

I turn at the question snarled at me from behind and see that wolfy is human once more. Having destroyed his clothes when he shifted, the man now standing before me is very naked. I must say, I’ve got no complaints about the view. Who would have a complaint about a naked Chris Hemsworth lookalike?

It takes me a while to get my eyes up to his face. There’s so much bare skin and muscle, and...other parts...to enjoy. Once my gaze makes it up to his face, though, I read annoyance in his expression. He’s annoyed with me? That’s weird, seeing as I just saved his butt.

Since I’m unsure why he’s pissed, and I don't like the way he's looking at me, I ignore him. I turn back to the demon’s body, and give him my back. I hope he takes that as the deliberate insult it is. Turning my back on him shows him I don’t view him as a threat.

“I needed one of those demons alive,” the male behind me growls as I squat beside my kill.

Ah. So that’s why he’s pissed. He wanted to interrogate one of his enemies. Regret pinches me, but I don’t apologize. For one thing, I didn’t mean to ruin his plans. I thought he needed help. For another thing, the fact that he's pissed off is pissing me off.

I pull my knife from the demon’s chest with a gross slurping sound. Two seconds later, the corpse becomes ash. Using my powers, I wipe demon junk from my knife with a pass of my hand over the blade.

“Now you someone who can talk to the dead,” I say glibly in response to his statement, and then tuck my knife back in its sheath inside my boot. I stand up and face him.“And if I hadn’t joined the party,” I continue. “You would have been wearing a toe tag. Now say ‘thank you’ and I’ll be on my way.”

“Thank you?” The male asks incredulously. His face is a mask of indignation. “Give me one bloody reason I shouldn’t off you right now.”

I snort at that comment. Seriously? This guy’s getting on my nerves. It’s really annoying that such a douche is so hot. A douche should look like a douche.

I give him a bored look. I’d rather not fight him, but if he wants to play, I’ll play. I’m a witch. I’ll own him, no question. Witches have better fighting tricks than werewolves.

“Listen, stumpy,” I say, going for the easy insult to his manhood. His back teeth clench. That’s the only sign I see from him that my nickname doesn’t amuse him.“From what I saw, those guys were about to end you. Am I supposed to apologize for trying to help you?”

It’s a pointless question. I’m not gonna apologize. I kick into motion, my booted feet eating up the pavement between me and wolfy.

“As for ‘offing’ me,” I say, and I stop right in front of him, up close and personal. “If you’re talking about killing me, you couldn’t best me even if I had my hands tied behind my back.”

I tilt my head and smile a little wickedly. “If you’re talking about a different kind of ‘offing’, I respectfully decline.” Dropping my smile, I adopt an eat-shit-and-die look. “I don’t sleep with assholes.”

On that note, I give him a ‘screw-you’ toodle-loo salute, turn, and strut down the alley.

Deklan

As the witch struts away from me, my wolf huffs a growl in the back of my mind.

I know, bud. I’m pissed too. Little Miss Witch is lucky I didn’t sink my teeth into her. She deserved to be ripped a new one. She ruined my plans, and she was a right cocky bitch.

My eyes narrow on her as she turns right out of the alley. She might think we’re done, but she’s wrong. I shift back into wolf form and start forward, following in her footsteps. At the mouth of the alley, I turn right and spot her up ahead. My wolf huffs his pleasure. He’s as eager as I am to catch up with our annoying quarry.

I keep a couple of blocks back and keep my eyes trained on her. That ass of hers tries to get my attention, but I keep focused. I hate to admit it, but the most annoying thing about little Miss Witch? She’s gorgeous. Like, Michelle Pfeiffer gorgeous. She’s got full lips and round cheeks, almond-shaped eyes, and shapely curves.

Personality-wise? She leaves something to be desired.

Physically? She’s delicious.

Part of me thinks it’s a shame she just added her name to my shit-list.

And that part of me is south of my waist.

Lucy

The wolf is following me. I don’t have to turn around for visual confirmation. I can sense him. I really rubbed him the wrong way. Not that I care. I tend to rub a lot of folks the wrong way. I’m a ‘love me or screw off’ kind of girl.

I don’t let on that I know he’s there. I keep walking and decide how I want to play this. I could double back on him. I could disappear. I could freeze him in place and have some fun. That last option holds appeal.

Decisions, decisions.

After a moment’s consideration, I decide I’m going to do a disappearing act. I don't have the patience to face him. And I don't feel like apologizing. Turning into an alley, I teleport to the roof of the building on my right. From there, I watch as wolfy enters the alley below and creeps forward. His gaze slowly pans left and right as he scans for me in the darkness. He checks behind a dumpster, then a couple of overstuffed trash cans. He proceeds deeper into the alley and checks all possible hiding places, then comes to a standstill. His snout goes up, and he sniffs the air. He’s obviously getting frustrated that he smells me but can’t find me.

I don’t know why, but for some reason, I change my mind about disappearing on him. Instead, I teleport down to the alley when he starts heading back toward the street.

“Looking for me?” I ask after I materialize a few feet in front of his snout. He startles a little at my sudden appearance.

He’s unable to give an answer in his current canine form, so he shifts shape. Black fur becomes smooth, tanned skin. Bones and muscles shift and morph until a man stands before me. Once again, he’s gloriously naked.

“Stalker much?” I ask.

I let my eyes drop from his face and travel over the front of his body. His delectable, meant-to-be-licked body. If he doesn’t mind showing it to me, I don’t mind looking. It’s been a while since I’ve seen a man in the flesh. Longer still since I’ve seen one this impressive.

“I’ve got nothing else to do tonight,” the male replies. “Thanks to you,” he tacks on. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, and I can’t help but notice the way his biceps bulge.

Geez. Those things are Olympic size.

I roll my eyes at his words. He might not have anything else to do tonight, but he’s also not dead, thanks to me. I’m about to lay into him about his lack of gratitude when I notice that the scrapes and bruises he’d gotten during his fight with the demons are gone. He’s healed.

I didn’t know werewolves healed in minutes. Myself, I heal quicker than a regular human. But apparently, I don’t heal as quickly as a werewolf.

“You’re healed,” I tell him now, as if he doesn’t know.

His arms drop to his sides, and he looks down at himself. Then he looks back up at me.“I wasn’t hurt that badly,” he scowls at me. “I didn’t need your help, witch.”

It’s clear that though he said ‘witch’, he meant ‘bitch’.

“It sure looked like you did,” I retort. “What’s done is done,” I tell him with a hiccup of a shrug. “I’m sorry if I messed up your plans.”

“That’s it?” the male asks. He props his hands on his hips and glares at me.

“That’s all I got. Take it or leave it,” I suggest.

“You’re something, you know that?” the male scoffs and looks at me like I’m something he’s scraped off the bottom of his shoe.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” I smile cheekily at the asshole.

Since I don’t like wasting my time on assholes, I go ahead and take my leave of this one.

“It’s been fun, really, but I’m bored now. So...” I wave goodbye, and without further ado, I teleport from the alley to my apartment.

“Jackass,” I mutter under my breath after I appear in my bedroom.

It’s fun imagining how pissed off wolfy is right now at being ditched.

I pull off my jacket as I walk over to my bed and toss it on the chair in the corner. Plopping down on the edge of my mattress, I take off my boots. Those get tossed aside, and the pair of them land on the floor near the foot of my bed and tip over onto their sides.

I get back on my feet and ditch my black hunting clothes, and my many concealed knives. I grab a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top out of my dresser and throw those on, then climb into my queen-sized bed. After propping myself up against the headboard with a couple of pillows, I grab the TV remote off my bedside table, turn on my small flatscreen TV, and start flipping through channels. I settle on a repeat of some comedy because I can’t find anything better and snuggle down under the covers.

Unfortunately, the show isn’t that funny, and it doesn’t hold my interest for long. After only a few minutes, I turn off the TV, roll over onto my side and turn out the lights with a snap of my fingers. As he does almost every night, my cat, Jinx, joins me in bed a couple of minutes after things go dark. He nimbly hops up onto my bed, trots up the mattress, and snuggles into a ball right behind my back.

“Night, baby,” I murmur.

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