Free Pack and Coven by Jody Wallace Page A

Five
    While she’d often wanted to kiss Harry during her unguarded moments, this wasn’t how June imagined it would happen.
    But he didn’t hesitate. He grabbed her by the back of the head, his fingers plowing through her hair, and pressed his lips to hers.
    She’d thought he’d be bristly. He was a wolf, right? His lips and skin were almost as smooth as hers, a mere hint of whisker to make things exciting.
    Their lips parted. Touched again and lingered. June rubbed the talc from her nose and fingers into his skin. She hadn’t napped enough to replenish all her power, but she had some.
    Then he angled his head, tilted hers where he wanted it and parted her lips with demanding pressure. Their tongues met in a hot, wet tangle that quickly consumed her. The desire she shunted aside for eight years blasted her like heat from an oven.
    â€œGod, you’re sexy,” he whispered. His long fingers dropped from her head to release her seat belt. He pulled her toward him, but she got stuck on the center console.
    â€œNothing like a near miss to make you appreciate life,” the shifter outside Harry’s window commented. “I take it this means you folks are still breathing?”
    Phooey. The shifters. They weren’t Millington wolves, but they would recognize Harry as a shifter as soon as he got out of the car. Alphas broadcast signals. It was part of what made them alphas. June had to shut those signals off.
    She lifted her fingers, the ones with talc under the nails, and shoved them into Harry’s mouth.
    He spluttered, but she kissed his cheek, hoping he’d understand. She didn’t have time to hone her talc mix to Harry’s chemistry. Goddess, she hated adlibbing. For this to have a chance of working, the talc and its ingredients needed to be in his body. The burn cream on her hand was bitter, but this wasn’t supposed to be delicious.
    Actually, kissing Harry was supposed to be delicious. Delicious and sinful and everything a witch with half a brain would avoid.
    So it just figured.
    â€œSwallow,” she whispered.
    He did. She did, as well. He nibbled on another fingertip, licking off the talc.
    He caught on fast. She opened her magic and pushed her disguise spell into both of them.
    Weakness threatened as her power rushed forth. The spell must have done something—a dud wouldn’t have taken as much out of her.
    Maybe she’d pushed too hard. She struggled to remain upright. Witches could add guarana to spells to offset the droop that came with depletion, but there’d been no time.
    Harry abruptly stopped kissing her fingers to shake his head. It was dark inside the car but they could see one another’s faces, hear the laughter of the shifters. Harry gave her a tense grin and tugged her into his lap.
    The emergency brake jabbed her heinie. The steering wheel had retracted into the console when the airbag deployed, leaving room in the driver’s seat for both of them.
    Fighting the urge to curl up and sleep, she pushed Harry’s face into her neck and peered at the old shifter awaiting an answer. A pure white beard and moustache surrounded his face, and his head hair had given in to the recessive gene not even shifters were able to avoid. He looked like Santa Claus, if Santa wore flannel and denim instead of red and white.
    Should she know him? She didn’t get out of Millington much, and covens mostly concentrated on shifters inside their territories as part of their monitoring function.
    â€œI’ve never been in an accident before,” she gushed in her best dumb-blonde voice, careful not to lie. “That was so scary.”
    Santa peered into their car. She heard him sniff. “Did something cut you in the wreck, missy? Your skirt’s bloody.”
    â€œNo, yes, well,” she stammered. “I ran into something sharp.”
    â€œI can’t believe this toy car kept you safe.” The others hopped out of the