The Deputy and His Enforcer (Kincaid Pack #3) - Kiki Clark Page 0,55
have been too embarrassed to answer.
“Not really.”
Kai hummed but then didn’t say anything else right away. When Marcus glanced at him just as they were turning onto Main Street, he saw Kai’s eyes were unfocused, and he was tapping at his mouth with one of his hands, lost in thought.
He was parking the car in front of the shop before Kai responded.
“So I know a lot of shifters are all”—he curled his lip back and gave a fake snarl, pitching his voice lower—“instincts, mates, sex, sex, sex when it comes to wooing their other half, but humans aren’t quite like that.”
Marcus just stopped himself from rolling his eyes. “I already know that much.”
Kai huffed and slapped at his shoulder. “I know. I’m just saying that you’ll have to go slower with Robson than you would if he were a shifter.”
Nodding, Marcus opened his door and climbed out. He waited until Kai had joined him at the hood of the SUV, then headed toward the shop’s entrance. “That makes sense. How do I know how much time he’ll need?”
Kai laughed as he opened the door and stepped inside the cool, dark store. “There’s no timetable. You’ll just have to keep communicating with him about how he’s feeling and what he needs to feel comfortable with your mating.”
Marcus had been afraid of that. Sighing, he caught the small smile on Damien’s face from where he was standing behind the counter on the opposite side of the long room.
“Damien, you’re human,” Kai said, strolling forward like he wasn’t about to embarrass the hell out of Marcus. It had been hard enough talking to Kai about things—he barely knew Damien. “Do you have any advice for Marcus about how to approach dating his mate?”
Tipping his head back, Marcus stared at the symbols painted on the ceiling of the shop and asked the goddess for patience. He ignored Kai’s and Damien’s muffled laughter.
“Um, don’t rush the deputy,” Damien said, voice soft and melodic. “Your instincts will be strong, but you have to be stronger. Wait until he tells you he’s ready to mate. Don’t go off his scent or anything else.”
Dropping his head forward, he frowned at the witch. “I understand how consent works.”
Damien’s light brown skin flushed, and his scent turned sour with embarrassment. “Of course, Enforcer Rivera. I meant no offense.”
Kai made a small noise and rushed forward, stopping before he could hug Damien when he flinched. “Oh, Damien.”
Marcus tilted his head and inhaled deeper, trying to parse through the overwhelming scents of the shop to dig into Damien’s and try and figure out what Kai had picked up on that Marcus had missed. Floating just under the scent of embarrassment was pain and… shame?
Anger flooded through Marcus, and he moved closer. “Someone took your scent for consent? Who?”
Kai gently took one of Damien’s hands in both of his and glared at Marcus. Damien saw the look and grimaced, then smiled a little. “It’s okay, Kai.” He turned to Marcus and straightened his shoulders. “It wasn’t anyone in your pack. And they didn’t… I ran away before… I ran away.”
Nodding slowly, he accepted Damien’s words and stepped back to give him some privacy as Kai continued to fuss over him for a few minutes.
He was on the other side of the shop looking at altar candles when he heard Damien approach. Kai had left a few minutes before when his best friend, Jess, came through the place in a whirlwind of laughter and teasing, and then another coven member had popped in to pick up some ingredients for some spell. The woman had smiled at Marcus but left quickly, nodding at him as she swept past, muttering about tarot cards.
“I set the warding for the front door and put the new sign up saying we’re temporarily closed,” Damien said softly. “Would you like to step in the back and I’ll show you what I came up with to help you?”
Nodding, he followed the slender young man past the back counter and through a beaded doorway. The back room was where the coven kept its collection of grimoires, but there were many, many other books stacked in the bookcases lining the walls plus more dangerous ingredients and spellwork implements.
There was a table in the middle of the room with rolled-up maps, stacks of books and loose papers, and a few mortars with ingredient remnants still in them.
“Mating magic is as old as shifters,” Damien said, grabbing a small clear jar full of herbs and