The Last Witch Hunter (Witch Hunters) by Thayer King Page B

against the railing to await her return.
    All was quiet over at Ronan’s house. The lights were out and she hadn’t heard the roar of his truck ’s engine. In a matter of days, he would no longer be a problem. No more trying to convince him that she wasn’t his mate. He wouldn’t be pestering her with excuses to get into her house to see her. She wouldn’t have to be awakened by his mowing his lawn and Mrs. Williams’ lawn shirtless despite the fact that she knew it had to burn his skin. Or maybe he had some witch spell to protect himself? That would explain it.
    She took a deep breath. Yeah, she could do without that. And she could stand a few days of not staring up into his beautiful blue-green eyes and his ridiculously handsome face. Yep, she would take a mini-vacation and then go back to life as usual. Working at the family bakery occasionally, but mostly anticipating the next call of suspicious activity. Spending her nights and weekends alone with the exception of an occasional short-lived relationship.
    Nikita swallowed. The thought of being with another man sickened her. She pressed her fingers to her brow. What had Ronan done to her?
    A sudden loud yowl drew her attention to the front lawn. Minx was a dark silhouette sitting in the middle of the yard. Nikita frowned at Minx. “Here, kitty,” she said, moving to the stairs. Instead of coming, Minx lifted a paw and cleaned it casually. Nikita sighed. She couldn’t leave Minx outside at night. There were a few feral cats and some loose dogs in town.
    As she was approaching, she caught sight of movement at the corner of the porch. She turned and saw it was Minx. By this point, she was only a few steps away from the Minx look-a-like. Now that she was closer, she could see that the other cat was slightly larger with longer fur. Also, its eyes were green instead of gold. Minx bared her fangs and hissed at the interloper. With one last lick of its paw, the trespasser loped off at a leisurely pace.
    Nikita shook her head. “Cats.” It was odd that the stray didn’t run off when she approached. Scooping up Minx, she returned indoors. No sooner had the screen door closed behind her than she heard a truck pull up in Ronan’s driveway. She peeped out the window. It was a small truck. The color was dark but indistinguishable in the evening light.
    “Good grief,” Nikita muttered to herself, “I’m turning into my grandmother. Sitting around on porches, peeping out of windows to see what’s going on in my neighbor’s yard.” Minx wriggled in her arms and she allowed her to go free. When she straightened she realized that her black turtleneck was covered in white cat hair from Minx’s belly. “Ugh.”
    She tugged the furry shirt over her head on the way up the stairs. She’d already packed many of her clothes when she was cleaning earlier, but she found an eggplant fuzzy sweater near the top of her suitcase. The sweater had a cowl neck and short sleeves. She pulled it over her head and then grabbed up her hair brush. For tonight, she’d left her hair loose and it fell in waves well below her shoulders. She usually kept it braided because it could become a nuisance and a liability when she was kicking ass.
    She was running her brush through her mane for the last time when she heard the doorbell ring. She still hadn’t heard the distinctive roar of Ronan’s truck turning into his driveway. Minx sat in front of the d oor. Nikita was sure that Minx must have been a dog in a previous life.
    Ronan’s cousin Brian stood on the other side of the screen door, his face and hands pressed up against the glass. He grinned when he spotted her. She crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you want?”
    “Is my cousin in there? He’s not over at his place.”
    “No. He’s working.”
    Brian opened the door. “Oh. I really need to talk to him. Do you mind if I wait here for him?” He started to cross the threshold then stopped. His face paled and then reddened as