The Witch's Familiar

he hadn’t drunk the cheap bottom-shelf rum since he’d been broke, which had been about two months ago. He took his drink to a corner table well away from everyone else, then pulled out his phone and pretended to be super busy—which he was as he needed to make a list of all possible creatures that could kill cows.
Five minutes on the Coven database revealed there were rather a lot of things that could eat cows. Things he didn’t want to believe existed.
Mack watched the stranger get his drink and take a seat. It was pretty clear he was no local. Given that Mercy wasn’t a tourist destination, he was probably passing through.
Ned nudged him. “Do you think he took a wrong turn?”
Mack smiled and sipped his beer. “I don’t think he’s the replacement vet.”
The vet had seen a mutilated cow, crossed herself, and taken an urgent visit home according to some stories. Others said she’d become a victim herself. Mack chose to believe the former. He didn’t get caught up in gossip and he didn’t listen to superstitious chatter either.
However, since the mutilations, he was heading farther away from town to shift as he really didn’t need another farmer shooting at him. Old Mr. Riley really needed his glasses checked if he thought a brown bear matched the description of the creature given by Jake and Donny—not that Mack put much weight on what they’d described as they’d both been drinking. If house-sized dogs were stalking around Mercy, Mack would’ve noticed.
“I’ll flip you,” Ned said with a nudge that almost spilled Mack’s beer.
“What for?” But Mack already knew. If a stranger came into the bar, they flipped a coin to see who’d get to make an ass of themselves. Sometimes the stars aligned and one of them got lucky. If not, and a drought had settled in, they knew each other well enough to spend the night without expecting more.
Mischief flashed in Ned’s eyes. He wanted to know who the city boy was. Not really a boy. He was a young man with too-trendy blond hair and fancy pointy-toed boots sticking out from the bottom of his tight jeans.
Mack shook his head. “I don’t think you’ll be able to sell him a car.”
“It’s not his car I’m interested in.” Ned already had a coin out.
“You go.” He didn’t want to walk over and make polite talk.
“Don’t break tradition.” Ned tossed the coin up.
Mack watched it flip through the air, then he stuck out a hand and caught it. Keeping it covered, he put it on the back of his hand. In his gut he knew no matter what Ned picked Mack was going to have to go over. The man glanced in their direction as if he knew they’d been talking about him. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing to introduce himself. It was only a conversation, and he’d lost count of the number of times it had never gotten past a hello. Ned had more luck picking up than Mack had ever had.
The new guy wasn’t his type. He was too…too…something. Mack glanced over again and ignored the quickening of his pulse. “Your call.”
“Heads. Always heads.” Ned smirked.
Mack tried not to roll his eyes. The trouble with living in Mercy was he knew most people too well. He’d been friends with Ned for far too long. Mack lifted his hand.
“Jeez, Mack, you have all the luck.”
Yeah, luckiest guy in town. “Maybe you shouldn’t have flipped if you were that keen.”
“I saw you watching. Besides, I won the last two tosses and stayed out all night.” Ned took a long drink and didn’t seem too devastated. “You need this.”
Mack was about to argue, but he had been glancing at City Boy, and it had been more than a while. He checked out the newcomer again. He didn’t need a type to have one night of fun. And it might be fun to get him out of those ridiculous boots or at least have them locked around his hips.
City Boy looked up as if aware he was being watched. His gaze landed on Mack and lingered for a moment too long before his drink consumed all of his attention.
“He gave you a look.” Ned lifted his eyebrow.
“It wasn’t a look.” Had it been a look? “What makes you think he’s one of us?”
Ned grinned. “Because if he was straight, he’d have noticed the women checking him out and he hasn’t smiled at them once. If Alice stares at him any harder, her eyes will fall out.”
Mack didn’t need to glance at Alice to verify that. She was always searching for fresh meat. But Mack didn’t want to get up and stroll over either. He sucked at small talk and conversation. It was much easier to go to the city and to a bar where hooking up was expected and everyone wanted the same thing. That he could do. This was torture for him, and Ned knew it and delighted in Mack’s discomfort. Mack couldn’t remember the last time he’d been successful at this game, but he played anyway, because when Ned failed it was funny.
“Seems you’re all out of beer.” Ned snatched up Mack’s glass and drained it.
Next time he shifted he was going to leave a bear crap on Ned’s front steps. That was the secret lodged between their friendship, and why they were only friends. He couldn’t tell people what he was. There were rules, and some rules had to be obeyed. “Remind me again why we’re friends?”
“Because I’m an awesome guy who is honoring the coin flip for the next three minutes. After that…” Ned shrugged.
Mack considered letting those three minutes slip by, but City Boy lifted his head again.
Don’t look at me.
He stared straight at Mack. This time Mack caught his gaze and gave a small nod. He was almost sure his lips had attempted to smile even though he’d thought those muscles long broken.
“That was definitely a look, and it was all