The Accidental Werewolf's Mate Read online

  The Accidental Werewolf’s Mate

  A Monsterly Yours Romance

  S.J. Sanders

  ©2020 by Samantha Sanders

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without explicit permission granted in writing from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction intended for adult audiences only.

  Editor: LY Publishing

  Cover art: Sam Griffin

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Epilogue

  Other Works by S.J. Sanders

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Ana

  In my dreams, I’m happy. I have a home and a family, everything I’ve always dreamed of, even after I aged out of the state program. It’s always a good dream, and I never want to wake up. In this dream, I have loving parents, siblings, and more cousins than I know what to do with. Waking up just takes all of that away. It means once again facing a shithole apartment that my wages and tips barely manage to cover and whatever consequences are waiting for me from any foolish activities I indulged in the night before.

  Like many mornings, I wake with my mouth tasting like old leather, the morning light pulsing nauseatingly behind my eyes. I groan, well aware that all the signs are in place for yet another morning suffering from a hangover. I lick my parched lips experimentally. The sour taste of whiskey lingers on my bottom lip, making my stomach twist. Bile rises in my throat and I shove my face into the pillow, breathing slowly until the urge to puke passes.

  “I need to either pick a new vocation or stop drinking with Jinx,” I moan, wincing at the raw sound of my own voice. Not only does it sound like I gargled with glass the night before, it also increases the strength of the headache beating behind my eyes. Jinx, the night manager and unofficial muscle during the closing shift, makes it difficult to resist having a few after-hour drinks once we’ve cleared out the last of the patrons in the early hours of the morning.

  After locking the door, we salute with shots of whiskey and then proceed to drink each other under the table. Every afternoon when I go in, I promise myself that I wouldn’t drink with him, and every night we end up plastered, singing Disney soundtracks of all things.

  My brow furrows. Last night, we sang the entire soundtrack of The Lion King. Mortification rears its ugly head as a memory crawls through the alcohol-induced fog of my brain. I had broken down after the third refrain of “Can You Feel the Love Tonight?” and sobbed into my drink until Jinx gently pried my hand off the shot glass and bundled me into a cab. The fact that it wasn’t the first time I’ve been a complete wreck in front of my best friend is the only thing that makes it possible for me to go in tonight and face him just like any other day. That, and the fact that he got me this job when I really needed something. Jinx is the consistent presence that I can depend on. I never had to hide anything from him.

  Together since we were thirteen and ended up at the same foster home together, we’ve been inseparable since I gave an older boy who’d been bullying Jinx a black eye. Back then, he was five foot nothing, scrawny, and pale, possessing the brightest shock of red hair I’d ever seen. Like many girls my age, I was taller and thicker than the boys, my curly black hair doing little to lessen the effect as it always seemed to puff out around my head like an unruly lion’s mane even then. He affectionately called me his champion ever since, even after he hit his growth spurt when he was sixteen and shot up to 6’2” one summer. Jinx is the only person I trust to get me hammered and make sure I got safely home.

  Here I am, wondering what could have possibly woken me when the persistent ring of my phone reaches my ears. Not for the first time, I chastise myself for keeping it on the old tv tray at my bedside as I crack one eyelid open.

  Big mistake.

  I yelp and instantly regret it when the light coming through my bedroom window burns mercilessly into my brain. Screwing my eye shut, I am determined to ignore it and go back to my much-needed sleep. I relax when the ringing stops, voicemail delivering me from the evil of whoever was calling, but two minutes later the phone begins ringing again, the shrill sound threatening my sanity. What did I ever do to deserve this?

  I press the accept button on my phone and hold it against my ear. “I don’t know who this is, but you’d better be injured or dying.”

  “Ana, get your perky ass up, and no threatening dismemberment this morning,” Jinx chirps cheerfully.

  “I loathe you,” I lie, smiling despite myself. “How is it you never have a hangover?”

  “Probably a case of being lucky or just having good genes,” he states with his usual good cheer.

  “I’m still not disregarding the vampire theory.”

  “I suspect if I were a vampire, I would be the one still in bed and even more surly than you to be awake right now.”

  I don’t even have to be face-to-face to know that his eyes are likely dancing with puckish laughter, his sexy dimples flashing in his cheeks. Shame that kissing him is too much like kissing my brother. We made out once the first time we got drunk together, and neither of us had been drunk enough to forget how bad it had been.

  “Give me time. I’ll narrow it down.”

  “Now, babe, the fae and their pals have only recently reemerged. If anyone is a vampire, it would have to be Drew.”

  I groan with laughter. He is so wrong. Drew, the other closing bartender, is about twenty-five and sports that baby vampire-goth look, complete with false fangs.

  “His fangs are completely fake.”

  “Decoys, love. How better to hide you’re a vampire than telling everyone you are into the vampire aesthetic? No one takes the fake fangs seriously. Mission accomplished.”

  I stretch, my leg pushing my cat curled up beside me as I run my free hand through my hair, scratching lightly at my scalp. Already, I’m starting to feel a bit more alive. I just need about two cans of Coke and a crap-ton of aspirin, and I’ll be wide awake and ready to start my day.

  Holding the phone against my ear, I pad barefoot to the other side of my studio apartment and yank open the fridge. The light is gentle, but I still squint as I pull out a cola, set it on the counter, and take out a bottle of aspirin from a drawer. I crack the can open and swallow down a mouthful of the elixir along with three pills as Jinx is going on about vampire conspiracy theories.

  “Jinx, you know I love you, but you are crazy.”

  “Just you wait and see, babe. Monsters walk among us.”

  “I am sure they do, but I think they are a bit harder to miss,” I return. “They have no reason to hide. They could pulverize us with little effort.”

  “Hear me out. You are a lonely vampire looking to find a missus. Wouldn’t it be easie r to play to our fantasies and join a safe aesthetic crowd where you can find the lady of your dreams, or your next meal, rather than advertise it?”

  “Fair enough,” I concede as I take another deep swallow.

  A plaintive meow pulls my attention to a large striped tabby looking up at me expectantly with wide yellow eyes.

  “Hey, Jack baby, are you ready for breakfast?”

  “Are you talking to Jack-o’-lantern again?”

  I hum in agreement as I dig through the cupboard for a tin of Friskies, and Jinx sighs. He knows better than to speak ill of my baby. He showed up last Halloween crying pitifully around the apartment’s dumpster, as orange as my carved pumpkin which earned him the rather odd moniker. Over the last year, he had not only been a faithful, loving companion but also an excellent mouser keeping my home pest-free. A gem for this neighborhood.

  Opening a can labeled salmon, I dump it into a small ceramic bowl and set it in front of Jack. The cat looks at it for a minute, as if considering whether or not it is worth eating before he starts to peck at it. Apparently, it passes inspection because he begins to eat with gusto. I lean back against the counter and rub my temple.

  “Jinx, was there a reason you called before noon?”

  “Yep. You need to get dressed because I am literally climbing the stairs to your place. Speaking of which, this is the twenty-first century. Why does a twelve-floor building not have an elevator?”

  “Why are you on my stairs?” I take a sip of my Coke and completely ignore what would likely end up another wild tangent.

  “I can’t believe you forgot! It’s Halloween! You promised we’d get some decorations for the bar.”

  “Bossman approved this?” My eyebrows raise with surprise. The grump never approved our holiday plans in the past.

  “Yep, have it in writing and everything. Says with all the supernatural creatures coming into our world and whatnot, we might as well try to pull in some profit on the most sinfully delicious night of the year. My paraphrase. I think his words were something more like, ‘Sure, might as well make a profit playing on the freak angle.’ In any case, I need a good costume.”

  “Charming. I thought you were costume coordinating with your girlfriend?”

  “Ah, about that, Trish somehow forgot to get her latest conquest out of our bed before they fell asleep. So, I got the pleasure of kicking them both out when I got home.”

  “Ouch,” I wince with sympathy.

  “Pretty much. Now I hope you’re decent because I am outside your door. Little pig, little pig, let me in.”

  I glance down at my oversized Garfield nightshirt and shrug. Good enough.

  “All right, Big Bad Wolf, I’m coming.”

  I make my way to the door, slide the four bolts free, and unlock it before swinging the door open. Jinx leans in the doorway with a playful smile as he eyes me.

  “Garfield this morning? I thought Snoopy was your Monday nightie.”

  “The cat barfed on Snoopy yesterday, so the old dog had to go in for a wash rotation.”

  Jinx slips in past me and plops on my bed, taking the remote and flicking on the TV. Eleven forty-five in the morning and Jason’s masked face takes up the screen. Only on Halloween would I see such a sight. It being a full moon probably just encourages them. Jinx barely glances at me out of the corner of his eye.

  “Don’t take too long, babe, and do try to get into the spirit!”

  Grumbling under my breath I pull out clean underwear, my favorite oversized black T-shirt printed with a sassy witch, and my pumpkin orange leggings. That is as festive as it’s getting. With a grumble, I take it all to the bathroom to get dressed.

  “I hope you’re planning on buying me breakfast!” I yell through the shut door.

  “If you can be out of there in less than fifteen minutes, we can stop at Dunkin’ Donuts,” he sings merrily.

  My mouth waters at the thought of a breakfast sandwich. I make it out in under ten and am pulling on my ankle-high boots, bouncing on one leg as I exit the bathroom.

  “Let’s go!”

  Chapter 2

  Ana

  I sip my pumpkin latte and sidestep a frantic mother trying to herd her brood of children to the register. The mall is busy on a normal day, but business jumps whenever it is close to a major holiday. Today is inarguably the worst day of the month to even be here, but Jinx appears to be enjoying the mayhem. He pushes the cart and is grinning from ear to ear as he inspects the various costumes and décor, laughing as he watches the kids trying to scare each other. I laugh too, able to appreciate it now that my headache has dulled, and I am floating in a caffeine-induced bubble of happy wakefulness.

  Pumpkin lattes make the world a better, joyful place.

  Besides, why shouldn’t I be in a good mood? As Jinx loves to remind me, Halloween is my favorite day of the year. My candy dish is stocked with the prerequisite candy corn and I have enough candy to send the entire city into a sugar coma waiting to be put in a bowl outside my apartment. I hate the fact that I always end up working on Halloween and miss out on the trick-or-treaters. Dressing up to hand out candy and seeing the kids in fun costumes has been the highlight of my night since I became too old to trick-or-treat.

  I am practically humming “This is Halloween” under my breath, mentally putting A Nightmare Before Christmas at the top of the list for my movie marathon before I have to go in to work this evening, while I follow Jinx through the store. I watch him fill up the cart with rubber bats, skeleton cats, dismembered body parts and various gruesome bits, and more than one human skull. I’m looking at the witches’ hats with interest, thinking of dressing up a little when I see him reach for a handful of plastic rats. I slap his hand, giving him the gimlet eye.

  “Let’s not push the boss too far, huh? We do want a repeat performance of this goodwill. A fake rat in the low light of the bar will be a bit much.”

  “Spoilsport,” Jinx pouts but moves on to a collection of bottles marked as various potions and poisons. “Speaking of which, are you sure I can’t change your mind about coming to the Sabbat?”

  I choke on a mouthful of latte as I laugh. “I am sorry, Jinx, there is no way I am prancing naked with your coven under the light of the full moon.”

  I move closer to the rack of hats and pluck a delightful orange and black hat from the display, a tiny plastic spider hanging like a tassel from the tip. I plop it on my head and turn toward him.

  “What do you think?”

  “That you are trying to color coordinate with your cat.”

  “Psht, very funny. I like it. I think this will be perfect to wear to the bar tonight. Then I can go home and return to my movie marathon while you frolic naked with your coven.”

  “You know, for a witch, you are a total killjoy. Skyclad is empowering and fun.”

  “For you maybe. For me, it would be just shy of traumatizing. Besides I have no interest in seeing your naked ass.”

  “For your information, I have it on good authority that my ass is fantastic.”

  I mumble a noncommittal reply, distracted by a small group of insanely hot men walking into the shop. Where were they trick-or-treating? They could stop at my apartment any time. Want some candy, boys? I snicker to myself quietly, entertained by my deliciously smutty thoughts as I imagined a different sort of bobbing for apples game we could play.

  Then one of the men looks straight at me, a shock of white-blonde—as in literally white—hair falling over impossibly apple-green eyes. Those had to be contacts. No one’s eyes were naturally that color. His lips curve into a naughty smirk as if he knew exactly in which gutter my brain had been romping. One eye closes in a sly wink and I catch the delicious scent of his woodsy cologne as he passes almost within touching distance. If only I were brave enough to take advantage of such an opportunity. The moment passes, and I lose sight of him within the crowd of the shop. I strain to catch sight of him again when an annoyed voice droning at my right sighs with exasperation and I find my self being shaken.

  “Earth to Ana. I can’t believe you’ve been zoning out on me, staring at guys while I have been trying to have a serious conversation with you.”

  I shake my head and blink up at him. “I am so sorry, Jinx. What was the question again?”

  He rolls his eyes and holds up paper plates in each hand, one decorated with sexy witches and the other skulls with lewd grins.

  “I asked, which should I get for the Sabbat midnight dinner?”

  “That was important.”

  Jinx glares impatiently. “It is important, you antisocial humbug.”

  I wrinkle my nose at the selection. “I am not antisocial, just very selective about how I spend my time and who with.”

  “Come on! Don’t make me beg. You are a witch. Shouldn’t you want to be in a coven? Ever since the veils between our world and that of the fae have been lifted everyone’s magic has jumped through the roof, especially yours—don’t think I haven’t noticed. A coven offers protection and family.”

  I stiffen. “That’s not the kind of family I’m looking for.”

  “But it is a start. And hey, there are a lot of good-looking single guys,” he says with a waggle of his eyebrows.

  “Hard pass.”

  Jinx lets out a beleaguered sigh. “Fine, but I’m not giving up on this.”

  “I shall schedule my next refusal for the solstice,” I quip, slanting a playful grin at him as I hand him plates decorated with a dark rose motif.

  Jinx laughs and nudges me as he dumps my selection in the basket and proceeds to the long checkout line. Two harried cashiers decked out in Halloween festive wear still managed to chat cheerfully as they moved the line along.

  “Long lines are always a hazard of the season, are they not?” a voice whispers from my right.

  I glance over and come face-to-face with the green-eyed man-candy. I look around to see if he is talking to someone behind me. A mom with three kids is staring at him and his friends speechlessly. He chuckles and I whip my head around to meet his amused gaze. For a terrible moment, I’m certain that my tongue is not going to unglue itself from the roof of my mouth and that I’m going to make a complete fool of myself. I swallow and smile. Thankfully, my tongue decides to cooperate.