kate storm 04 - witches dont back down

BOOK: kate storm 04 - witches dont back down
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Table of Contents

 

 

 

 

 

Chapters

 

1. The Animal Side

2. Love, Haters and Karaoke

3. A Nymph Walked In

4. Redneck Secretaries and a Nemesis

5. My Aunt Tabitha

6. Chihuahuas and Demons

7. Un-Dead Best Friends

8. Research and Information

9. The Enemy of My Enemy

10. Matchmaking Sabotage

11. Demons, Chihuahuas and Motorcycles

12. Bad Witches

13. Demon Kings Rock

14. A Bad Feeling

15. Panic

16. A Little Less Panic

17. Self-Defense Tactics and Break-Ins

18. Bad Nymphs

19. Matchmaking

20. Chihuahuas In Love

21. My Aunt In Love

22. The Devil I Now Know

23. The Things We Do For Those We Love

24. Embracing My Lie

25. Hot Demons

26. Every Witch Needs A Thick Bedroom Door

27. Got Fangs?

28. Good Friends

29. A Chihuahua-Napping

30. The Evil Witch

31. My Biggest Battle

32. And Then I Died

33. Dying Sucks

34. Happily-Ever

 

1. The Animal Side.

 

"
The alpha wolf is easily recognized by its bold facial markings as well as its scent."

It wasn't Sir David Attenborough's voice, although the narrator did have an English accent and spoke in the same lyrical tone.

"These distinct characteristics, along with body posture and dominance, set the alpha wolf apart from the rest of the pack."

I lifted Ash's arm and started to ease my way off the bed. That same arm tightened and pulled me back into the curve of his warm body.

"He's fine, Kate," Ash rumbled in my ear. His voice was several octaves lower than normal. Probably because I'd woken him up and it was four in the morning.

"He's not fine." I wiggled and pushed against his arm. I made absolutely no progress what-so-ever.

Ash is a demon lord. Actually, his full name is Asmodeus or Asmodai–depending upon your mortal ethnic heritage–King of Demons.

Yep. That still rocks my boat. I'm sleeping with Ash, King of Demons and star attraction in all my naughty fantasies. Not bad at all for a cursed witch.

I'm Kate Storm and these days I rock.

Sort of.

I'm a half-breed witch. Half human and half non. I belong in both the human community and the HC–humanly challenged–one. The HC are immortal and consist of creatures usually found in human fairy tales. For the HC, those fairy tales are basically family histories.

Like the wolf in Little Red Riding Hood, that clan of werewolves still obsesses over the color red. They love it. Can't get enough of it. I heard they even tried therapy at one point, but I guess it was during the Running of the Bulls in Spain and the TV was on . . . Yeah. Not good. They've been banned from all therapy and they settled out of court for damages to the warlock therapist.

The humans don't know about the HC and the HC pretty much sneers at humanity and mortality.

In addition to being a half-breed, I'm also mortal. The HC see me as weak and a loser. But they don't say it to my face anymore. Ash would kick their ass if they did.

I would kick their asses too, but I don't have Ash's muscles. Mine are buried under a few layers of . . . let's just call it added softness. All right. It's probably more than a few layers.

I've been working on a new and improved Kate. My previous method of handling issues was to duck and dodge. As a confrontational skill, I don't recommend it. I am now trying to face things head on. Which means being honest in regards to my weight.

Here goes: I'm very chubby. I cut out the tags in my jeans because I don't like the reminder. I have yet to try a diet that works. Even the magical ones. I can't play sports that involve bats or clubs because my boobs are too big to allow my arms to cross in front of my chest. I don't like sports at any rate because I was always the last one to be picked for a team. Walking is my only exercise and my Chihuahua can walk farther than I can. And I have no desire to eat lettuce for the rest of my life so I will probably always be chubby.

There. I've said it. Deal with it. I'm still trying to.

"Wolf packs communicate with growls, yips, yaps and whines. They howl for long-range communication."

I tugged at Ash's arm again. "He turned the volume up. I have to go and check on him."

"He's fine." Ash slid his hand down from just below my breasts to my stomach and over to my hip. I tried to suck in really hard when he got to my stomach. "Al and I had a beer before you got home. He's fine."

Al has been my constant companion for years. I'm crazy about him. Sadly, I'm not in love with him the way he is with me.

I thought my relationship with Ash would destroy him. Al dealt with it a lot better than I ever expected. Then again, Al has never been one to duck and dodge. In his former life, he was a New Jersey mafia hitman.

He has a more focused motto about life–site the target, take aim and shoot.

"He never watches television at three in the morning. I just want to check on him."

Demon Kings have a long list of amazing qualities like an overabundance of muscles and gorgeous half-dollar sized, gray horns that protrude out over each temple and serious skills in bed.

Ash is not so good at relating to a vanquished male.

Even if he is my Chihuahua.

I couldn't tell you why Al's ghost channels through my Chihuahua. I'm a witch and I know magic, but not all magic.

"He's trying to get in touch with his animal side." Ash murmured.

"He's what?"

"I think it's a great idea."

I didn't. I thought it was a terrible idea. Up till this point, Al had completely denied the fact that he was dead and his ghost lived inside the fourteen by nine inch body of my Chihuahua.

I didn't blame him.

If I woke up one day and discovered that I had been killed and my ghost had decided to take up residence in another body I'd . . . Well, it might depend on the body. If we were talking about a size eight with straight blonde hair that flowed sensuously over my shoulders every time I chuckled sexily then I might not mind.

On the other hand, if I had been a bad ass hitman and then found myself in the body of a very small Chihuahua who couldn't hold a gun, I would definitely have issues.

I couldn't hold his refusal to see reality against him.

It was part of his charm. Sometimes.

I was also totally used to it.

I could relate to Al the hitman. I wasn't sure I could relate to Al the Chihuahua.

Logically I knew he was an actual Chihuahua. I can pick him up now and he poops and pees on my front yard. I got that.

But when you have argued and laughed and shot down the advances of a hitman, it's hard not to see him as a hitman. No matter how small he physically was.

"Let me up, Ash."

"Kate."

"You better not encourage this either." I turned my head to glare at him over my shoulder. I've learned to be firm with both Chihuahuas and Demon Kings.

They each have a tendency to run a witch over.

Ash groaned and rolled onto his back. I jumped out of bed, snagged my robe and headed into my living room.

My apartment was advertised as a two bedroom. Since my desk and bookshelf barely fit in the other "bedroom" I've always considered that advertising to be false at best.

A narrow hall bisects the bathroom and two bedrooms from the living room and kitchen.

Al was lying on the couch with his head on a pillow and his paw on the remote.

"Wolves can bring down an animal ten times their own size."

Sweet Spirits, I sincerely hoped he didn't try to do that. He could get seriously injured. He's a very small Chihuahua.

"Can't sleep?" I sat down next to him and scooped him up.

Al licked my lips and blinked his bulging, brown watery eyes at me. They get me every time.

"Hey, Doll. No, I was hot."

He wasn't. He rarely got hot. Even summers in southeastern Idaho can be cool, especially at night. I made him wear sweaters in the winter.

The sleeping arrangements had become somewhat complicated since Ash moved in. Previous to Ash's arrival in my bed, Al had slept with me under the covers. Usually between my legs.

And I'd frequently had to move him. More specifically his little nose.

He is persistent.

Now he was bed-less.

Actually Ash had bought him a very nice plush, black velvet couch trimmed with silver studs and a matching small black velvet pillow.

Rhinestones between the bottom cushion and the silver studs spelled out
Bad Ass.

I thought it was rude. Al and Ash thought it was hysterical. Ass had been Al's name for Ash until very recently.
They treated it as some sort of weird male bonding inside joke. I didn't get it.

I had placed it on my side of the bed.

Al only used it when we weren't in the room. The rest of the time he slept in the living room. Both Al and Ash seemed fine with the new arrangements.

I was not.

I understood Al was not comfortable sleeping in the same room as us, but I also worried that he was lonely. Or cold.

He's really very small.

"Can I get you anything?" I pulled the fleece blanket from the back of the couch over and tucked it around him.

Al snuggled into the blanket. "No. I'm good, Doll."

"The average bite force of a wolf is nearly 400 pounds. A wolf can take down prey with one bite to the neck."

Al ran his tongue over his little teeth.

I turned off the TV.

"I don't think you should be watching this, Al."

I wasn't sure Al could take down a mouse, much less something bigger. Sweet Spirits, his ego would be crushed if a squirrel got the better of him.

"Doll, it's time I got in touch with my inner animal."

Technically he was all animal, but I wasn't going to mention it.

"I really don't think that is a good idea, Al."

It was an absolutely terrible idea.

Al shook off the covers, set his tiny paws on either side of my mouth and gave me the softest lick.

"It's all right, Doll. I'm fine. Ya don't have to worry. This is just somethin' I need to do."

Well, damn it.

I couldn't argue with him. 1) I always lost and 2) His bulging brown eyes always got me. Even if I was right, I still lost.

"And you feel these National Geographic shows are going to help you?"

I'd caught a glimpse of sharp teeth, lots of blood and what looked like a meal of raw entrails before I turned off the TV. There was no way Al could eat raw meat. It would upset his stomach. He was partial to manicotti. Preferably homemade.

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