Witches Get Stitches Read online

  Lucky for me, I’d never see this werewolf again.

  Chapter 2

  10 months later…

  * * *

  ~NICO~

  * * *

  For the first time since New Year’s Eve, my wolf had chilled the fuck out. My body was at ease. Not because I’d done gigs like this a hundred times before, but because she was in the room. Muscles relaxed, breathing steady, I watched her greet her first table as I slipped the strap of the guitar over my head.

  She frowned, sensing a new supernatural in the pub. I stared, enjoying my fill of her, as I strummed a few chords. It had been too long since I’d soaked her in, enjoyed her stark beauty. Her gaze swept to me, widened in surprise then narrowed. That only made me smile as I leaned close to the mic.

  “Good evening, everyone. I’m new here to New Orleans, so I hope you’ll be gentle with me tonight.”

  “Come over here! I’ll be gentle!” called one of the young women at a high-top table with her friends closer to the stage.

  I gave her a smile then glanced down at my guitar, adjusting a string before strumming again.

  “Thank you.” I nodded at the table of ladies, playing to my small audience. “I heard that New Orleans had fantastic hospitality. Glad to see that was true.” A few whistles and a sputtering round of applause from the Cauldron’s customers. “Well then, my first song goes out to a girl who took my breath away the first night I met her.” More whistles. “Then she bailed on me.”

  “I wouldn’t do that to you, baby,” said the brazen woman at the high-top.

  With a low chuckle, I played the first chords of “Ain’t No Sunshine,” glancing over at Violet now at the bar where she stood there slack-jawed and staring. I couldn’t help but grin wider, then I started singing. She carried on with her business, throwing me not-so-pleasant glares as she served her customers, a pretty blush high on her cheeks.

  After several songs where Violet tried to pretend I wasn’t in the room, walking with undisguised hostility, I was positive she’d thought she’d never see me again. I had no problem with hard-to-get. I was a patient man. And my wolf, he’d have no other, so she was in for a rude awakening.

  I wasn’t going anywhere, and I wasn’t going to give up until I got what I wanted. Her.

  After ending my current song, I slipped the strap of my guitar off my shoulder. “Taking a five-minute break, guys. Be right back.”

  I set my guitar on its stand then meandered through the tables. The place was pretty packed. Stopping at the end of the bar, I nodded to the beefy bartender JJ at the other end. He waved as he took the order of the woman in front of him. I’d met him when Violet’s older sister Jules gave me a brief tour right before the dinner rush. I’d been elated to discover that Violet would be waiting tables on my first night.

  I’d been pleasantly surprised that her sister, the Enforcer and head of all supernaturals in New Orleans, had given me the time of day, much less given me a weekly spot at her family’s restaurant and pub. I wasn’t surprised she’d asked if I knew anyone in town.

  When I’d said that my cousin, Mateo Cruz, lived here, she’d taken all of five seconds to hire me. That was this morning, and I hadn’t had time to even text Mateo yet. I was too busy shopping for a place to live and dealing with a real estate agent.

  A fantastic house with a business attached caught my eye. It was at the end of a dead-end street a few blocks from here. I didn’t have need of commercial space, but the fact that it was so private appealed to me, especially in a busy city. No one would hear and complain if they heard animalistic growls and howls if I lost control of my wolf.

  The image of Ty’s anguished—and scarred—face flashed to mind again, piercing me with a sharp sting of bitter and painful regret. Yes, a large lot with secluded privacy was just what I needed.

  I closed on the property tomorrow, then I’d be a permanent resident of the city where Violet lived, whether she liked it or not. Right now, it looked a lot like not.

  “What’ll you have?” asked JJ.

  “Killian’s Red.” I pulled out my wallet.

  “Nah. On the house.” He pulled a longneck from the cooler and popped it open for me.

  “Thanks, man.”

  “You want a mug?”

  A shake of the head. “This is good.”

  “You know what isn’t good?” asked Violet, suddenly there beside me, her scent snatching my senses captive with unnatural speed. “This werewolf who’s stalking me.”

  Smiling, I tipped the beer bottle back and took a swallow, noticing her noticing me. “Stalking?” I swept the room as if looking for the culprit. “That does sound like a problem.”

  JJ gave us both a quizzical look then sauntered off down the bar to another customer.

  “Don’t play with me, Nico. Why are you here?”

  “Well, you see, my mom and dad met and fell in love. Then they got married and fucked each other and—”

  Unamused, she interrupted, “You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

  “Just stating facts.”

  “The fact I want to know is why you’re here”—she pointed at her feet—“in my city, in the Cauldron.”

  “You own this city? Had no idea.”

  “Stop playing.” She tilted her head, hair still a vibrant blue as it slid over her bare shoulder, her tank top exposing the blue orchid, reminding me yet again of the electric night we met.

  “Thought it was pretty obvious.” I glanced at the stage. “I moved here. Got a job.”

  Those sapphire eyes assessed my expression, looking for lies. There wasn’t one there. That was all true.

  “Why New Orleans?”

  “Why not?” Leaning forward into her space, I inhaled a divine whiff of her scent as I growled, “I have a better question. Why’d you bail on me five minutes after I made you come on the rooftop in Austin?”

  All her bravado vanished behind wide eyes while I took a casual sip of my beer. I practically purred at the sight of her surprised and sputtering for an answer.

  She crossed her arms. Defensive move. “I had somewhere to be.”

  Biting my bottom lip, I let her squirm uncomfortably beneath my gaze before I said, “That was rude.”

  She winced. “I know.”

  “Pretty immature, too.”

  “Look, I know. You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  “Are you? Or sorry that I showed up to remind you of it?”

  She actually did look fairly remorseful.

  “Forget about it,” I said. “Listen, I was looking for different scenery. Austin was getting too crowded.” And hostile. “So I decided to move. My cousin lives here in town, and I thought New Orleans seemed as good a place as any.”

  She tensed a little, a frown puckering between her brows. “Your cousin? What’s his name?”

  “Mateo Cruz. Know him?”

  Since her sisters were the head witch coven in New Orleans, they’d likely know most of the supernaturals in the city, personally or not.

  “Yeah.” She nodded her head, seeming disappointed. “My sister Evie and him are friends.” She gestured toward the young woman swishing out of the kitchen, her ponytail swinging.

  Violet blew out a heavy breath, lifting a strand of blue hair. I wondered what her natural color was. “I really am sorry for bailing on you that night.” She closed her eyes in misery for a second. “That was seriously shitty of me.” She then lifted her gaze to me with a questioning look.

  “I’m not going to argue,” I said playfully but meaning it.

  And I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell her how it had left me in agony for months. Not because of the blue balls she’d given me, but because I knew the second I kissed her what she was to me. One taste had sealed her into my flesh and bones.

  She glanced over at her tables before she straightened and flashed me a small smile. “I’ve gotta get back to work.”

  “How about a drink later? After I finish?”

  She eyed me warily,
and I wasn’t sure where that was coming from. She didn’t seem to have had a thing against werewolves on New Year’s Eve. But then I hadn’t known her intentions were to have a little fun then vanish into thin air. Maybe werewolves were only good enough to toy with. Not date.

  “Not tonight,” she said with no further explanation. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

  Then she turned on her heels and returned to her tables.

  I was suddenly relieved I’d already found a place and was putting down some long-term roots because, apparently, this conquest was going to take some time.

  ~VIOLET~

  I tried to pretend that Nico’s presence in the Cauldron didn’t rattle the living shit out of me. But it so did. That werewolf was fine as fuck, and it would take a freaking miracle for me to keep my ass out of his bed. Especially after I knew how talented the man was with his tongue.

  My psychic magic had flat-out given me a vision of Evie and Mateo living blissfully together one day, whether they knew it or not, which also told me I needed to keep my thirsty thoughts off of Nico Cruz.

  I’d done a reading on Evie privately and was well aware that she and Mateo would be together forever. But it was better she didn’t know right away. Not that she’d rebel and toss the guy before their romance ever took place, but sometimes interference from a Seer could muck things up. So I typically only interfered when necessary.

  What that did mean was that Nico was a permanent fixture in our lives. And my usual MO of love-em-and-leave-em wasn’t going to go over well with Nico. Unless…?

  I stopped at a table where my customers had just left. After pocketing the tip, I slowly bussed the table, stacking empty glasses and plates onto my tray while watching Nico croon an old Nirvana song. His smooth but smoky voice did things to my insides. Melty, wonderful things. He’d been singing with his eyes closed. When they opened, his burning gaze landed directly on me.

  Ever heard that phrase when time stood still? I’d never felt it myself, until that moment. His eyes locked on me, paralyzing me on the spot. A feverish frenzy of adrenaline flushed through my blood. Magic tingled along my skin. A bare caress of it lifted the hairs on my arms.

  Was he the one?

  Swallowing hard against the exhilarating possibility that the man of my dreams could very well be the devastatingly handsome werewolf singing a soft ballad with a sexy voice and staring at me with those hypnotic eyes, I got my ass to the kitchen. Then I kept myself busy all night.

  Mateo and Evie had shown up at some point. I sneakily watched Mateo talking to Nico on another break later in the night. Then I smiled to myself when Evie danced with Mateo before the two of them disappeared down the hallway to the storage room.

  All that did was draw my attention back to Nico. I needed to know. Before my shift was quite over, I asked the other waitress Belinda if I could take off a little early. The pub had died down enough that she could handle it.

  I slipped through the back door then headed down the short alley between the Cauldron and our metaphysical shop, Mystic Maybelle’s. Clara had closed it up hours ago, so the place was full dark. I made the short walk down the side street to our two-story bungalow, up the driveway, and to the stairs leading to the carriage house loft where Clara and I lived.

  We still hung out in the main house, but we had two bedrooms and a small kitchenette and living room of our own in the carriage house. Clara wasn’t home and must’ve been in the main house. Good. Because I didn’t want to explain to her why I was doing a late-night reading.

  “Okay, okay.” I shook out my arms, the adrenaline shooting like wildfire through my veins. “Calm down.”

  Easier said than done. I rummaged in my desk drawer for my oldest deck of Tarot cards, the one Mom had given me when I was sixteen, the same year Aunt Beryl gave me the premonition about my one true love.

  I’d pretended that her words hadn’t sunk in. That her psychic vision hadn’t jarred something loose inside me and had realigned the way I moved about in my adult life. It was no secret that I enjoyed the hell out of men. But if I didn’t get the sense that they could be the one, I’d moved on pretty damn quickly. To be honest, I hadn’t thought about it in a long-ass time. Not until tonight when Nico looked at me in a way that turned my legs to pudding.

  After finding my well-worn deck in shades of cream and gold, I sat cross-legged in the middle of my bed and blew out a shaky breath.

  “Ten of Cups, ten of Cups,” I chanted, closing my eyes and hoping like hell.

  Ten of Cups was the epic happily-ever-after card. It meant divine love, blissful relationships, harmony, alignment. That was the card I longed for when I’d done this reading in the past.

  I’d only done a reading about this twice before now. For Paul, my first college romance that went nowhere. However, when we first met, I’d been dazzled by his striking blue eyes, which immediately made me think of Aunt Beryl’s vision.

  I’d also done a reading for Hayden, this warlock who sat in my section at the Cauldron three days a week till he finally asked me out. There hadn’t been anything special about his eyes or the way he looked at me or the way I felt when he looked at me, but I really liked him for a while there and thought what the hell. Of course, the reading didn’t give me the Ten of Cups because here I sat. Single as ever.

  Inhaling a deep breath then exhaling slowly, I spread the cards out on my mattress face down, conjuring my magic as I mixed them up. When I felt that certain rightness, my magic in sync with my mind and body, I sat straight and whispered into the room what I asked for. A three-card spread would be more thorough.

  “First card is for me.”

  I hovered my palm over the cards, then flipped the one that spoke the most to me.

  Death stared back, smiling from a death’s head. The most prevalent meaning of the Death card was endings.

  “Fuck.” I pushed down the anxiety, remembering that maybe it was the ending of my single life. “That could be it,” I muttered, hoping for the best. “Okay, the second card is for Nico.”

  My hand snatched a card quickly, almost as if it was someone else’s.

  “Are you kidding me?”

  The Three of Swords. I stared at the card with the bleeding heart stabbed through with three sharp swords, making my chest ache. It meant heartbreak.

  Great. So Nico is going to bring me heartbreak and emotional pain?

  “Last one. Third card is for our relationship.”

  I flipped over the last card and laughed bitterly at the Tower card, a crumbling one with flames shooting out of the windows and the spire. It meant upheaval and chaos.

  “Definitely not the Ten of Cups.”

  My chest pinched with disappointment. Especially when I remembered the way the man could make me feel with one glance of those deep green eyes.

  If Aunt Beryl was right—and Aunt Beryl was always right—he wasn’t the one.

  “Ah, hell,” I mumbled, flipping over the cards and mixing them up again.

  One more time.

  I repeated what I wanted before I flipped over three cards in quick succession. Again, in that order, came Death, Three of Swords, the Tower.

  Leaving the cards on the bed, I cursed my way through a hot shower, then came back to them and tried again. The same three cards stared back at me. The skeleton of Death seemed to grin wider.

  Finally, I gathered the cards and put them away, accepting that I’d been wrong. Wasn’t the first or the last time. But it was more than apparent that endings, heartbreak, and chaos were not the cards that would lead to my happily-ever-after.

  I stretched out on my bed and sighed at the ceiling, lamenting that Nico wasn’t the one. And knowing he was Mateo’s cousin and now employed at the Cauldron, that put him firmly in the friend zone.

  No matter how badly my libido told my brain to fuck off, I wouldn’t put myself through all that turmoil. Nor would I put him through it. And if those green eyes made me weak again, I’d just think of burning, crumbling towers, three
sharp swords stabbing my heart, and that wicked fiend Death grinning back at me.

  “Sorry, Nico.” And sorry, self. “Friends it is.”

  Chapter 3

  Present day…

  * * *

  ~NICO~

  * * *

  Yes, I was a masochist. I enjoyed pain. Why else would I lay here shirtless beneath Violet Savoie with her hands on me and unable to move a muscle? She leaned closer, her nearness, her scent, threatening to choke me. I wanted to touch her. What’s new? I always wanted to touch her. But I couldn’t, so I kept my arms and hands limp at my sides—claws threatening to come out—while she tattooed a crescent moon surrounded by mystical stars at the top of my right pec.

  Nope, I just lay there dormant as fuck like every brush of her hand and fingers wasn’t utter agony. The pain of the needle while she detailed the shading was a mild but welcome distraction.

  I congratulated myself on becoming a fantastic actor since I’d moved to New Orleans. Seriously, I could kick the shit out of some Broadway if I wanted to.

  Partnering with Violet was my idea, so no one was to blame but myself. Regardless of the fact that she pretended New Year’s Eve two years ago had never even happened, this was still a great idea. Partnering and investing in Empress Ink allowed me to finally put down roots somewhere.

  Sure, I could still move on and monitor the business remotely, but I liked it here in New Orleans. My cousin Mateo, who was more like a brother, was close by. Empress Ink already had a wait-list for clientele, and we hadn’t even officially opened yet. The Savoie family had welcomed me like I was one of their own.

  Then there was Violet. Pretty, foul-mouthed Violet. My unhealthy obsession was tempered only by the brick wall she’d erected when I’d moved to New Orleans. Despite the fact that I could tell our attraction was mutual, she’d solidified our status as friends pretty damn fast. But my patience was starting to run out. Becoming her business partner was my newest tactic to get closer to her.