His friends were obviously more cautious — smarter — than Lynn Johnson, telling by the scenery we were passing. Wherever they now lived, it was in the boonies. There was nothing out here except for sand, cacti, tumbleweeds, and a crescent moon that dimly lit our way. Finally, another half-hour later, Ezra pointed to a road I probably would have missed, the only thing even showcasing it even was a road were two tiny red reflective plastic circles stabbed down into the earth on either side of the ‘driveway’, maybe an inch from the ground.

Turning down the long road — still no house in sight — I carefully asked, “Anything I should know about these people?”

“Nothing like you’re thinking,” Ezra murmured, dialing a few numbers on his cell. “They’re good people even if a bit,” he placed the cell to his ear, “flamboyant.” His eyes met mine briefly before turning back to the road. “And don’t be surprised if you see drugs being used.”

Then he stopped talking to me as the person he was calling answered. “Judge! It’s Ezra. How are you, man?” He paused, chuckling softly. “Yes, Jury told you right. I’m going to be using your mad skills to get married tonight.” A pause. “No, I’m not crazy.” Another pause. “No, I don’t need a bachelor party.”

I bristled, glancing at him, my grip tightening on the wheel.

Ezra’s lips twitched, catching whatever expression I wore. “Judge, she’s hearing everything I’m saying, and I’d rather not piss her off and have a runaway bride on my hands.” A longer pause, then Ezra turned a little on his seat toward the window, whispering, “Seriously, Judge. Don’t even think about it. If you’ve really planned something, get them the f**k out—” He stopped talking…because I slammed on the brakes and jerked the phone from his hand.

“Judge?” I asked into the receiver, damn near on the verge of violence.

Ezra was bright enough not to grab the phone back. He sat quiet. Really, he didn’t move…or breathe. God love an intelligent man.

A chuckle echoed over the line. “You must be the soon-to-be Mrs Ezra Zeller.”

“Actually, I’m Queen f**king Ruckler,” I let a bit of my growl enter my tone, “and soon-to-be wife of King f**king Zeller, but since that’s a bit of a mouthful, and you’ve apparently already taken the names Judge and Jury, I’ll go with your festive streak and let you call me…Executioner.” Oh, the irony. I growled low, my eyes flashing into the night. “And you’re going to get a front row seat to just what the Executioner does if I see one damn naked woman when we get there.” I paused. “Are you feeling me, Judge?”

There was an extended pause over the line, then booming laughter. “Oh, f**k. That’s perfect.” More laughter as he mumbled, “I’m feeling you. No naked women will be in…sight. Now, can I talk to my man?”

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My wolf growled. “My man.”

A gurgled chuckle. “Alright, can I talk to the apparently newly crowned King Zeller?”

I turned my glare on Ezra, holding out the phone to him. “I’ll kill him if he’s lying.”

Ezra studiously nodded, carefully taking his phone back. He leaned over just as slowly, kissing my cheek. “Calm down, sweetheart, because even if they can’t get rid of all the strippers, you’re the only woman I’ll be looking at.”

I blinked. All of them? He said it like it was a freaking shitload, not the one — or two — I had been visualizing. But, of course, who could see Ezra Zeller having only one or two strippers at his bachelor party? Naive, I was currently being, and I wasn’t about to voice it.

Jerkily, I put the SUV back into gear and continued down the road. A soft growl permanently vibrated in my chest and possessive anger oozed from my very being, even as Ezra ran his hand up and down my leg in repetitive soothing motions.

Holding the phone up to his ear, Ezra stated severely, “You pissed her off, Judge.” There was a lengthy pause. “Yes to all questions, and I suggest you do as she said unless you want your head ripped off,” yes, it would be, “because she wasn’t kidding. We’re almost there, I can see the house ahead,” uh, I couldn’t, “so I need to try to fix your damn mistake.” He snapped his phone shut.

Instantly he leaned over, nuzzling at my neck and purring, “Sweetheart, you know—”

I lifted a stopping hand. “Shut it. I’ll calm down better if you don’t try to placate me.” I wiggled my shoulder, dislodging his face from my neck. “So back off.”

“No,” he stated brusquely, grabbing the other side of my neck, keeping his face flush against my skin and placing hot kisses across it. “We’re getting married and I don’t want you jealous or upset.” Soft nibbles on my earlobe. “I’m yours, sweetheart. I don’t give a shit about any woman except you. I didn’t ask for them to plan something, nor do I want it.” Said earlobe was gently sucked into his warm mouth. “All I want is you.”

Truth. All of it.

That quickly, I felt my wolf recede, possessive anger slowly dissipating at his honest words and his gentle petting. I tilted my head to give him better access, finally seeing lights ahead, even as I mumbled, “If there’s any T and A in view, you had better,” I cleared my throat as his knuckles brushed my collarbone, his lips beginning to suckle at my neck, “keep your eyes averted if you’re wanting to keep them.”

“I like my eyes right where they are.” He sighed softly. “On the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.”

Ah, now that was just sweet. “Alright, alright. I’m not mad anymore.”

“Hmm?” His lips still played at my neck. “I know.”

A soft giggle left my throat as he continued his exploration of my neck. “God, I love you.”

The house I pulled up in front of reminded me of an igloo mansion, but it appeared made of sand instead of ice, and had large windows placed sporadically with red or gold lighting pouring from them. I parked in the circular ‘drive’ instead of going around the extensive front to the back where I saw another road lead and was probably where they parked their cars normally. Exiting the SUV, I sniffed the air, scenting the sizzle of Mage magic, a few Shifters’ scents, and a whole helping of marijuana. My ears were attacked by loud music, proving that this home placed in the middle of f**king nowhere was an excellent pick. It also told me this was a refuge of sorts for a variety of Mysticals, because there were too many intermingled scents for a simple home dwelling.




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