Page 34 of Crow Me A River

“Bruce, stop gloating.” A beautiful woman walked toward them shaking her head, a huge man following close behind. Vin knew instantly the man was a Shifter and a predator. His relaxed stance tensed automatically, his protectiveness over Misty overriding everything until he knew exactly who they were. “You must be Misty. Bruce has talked a lot about you. I’m Wicked, and this is my Mate, Thorne.”

“She’s my Witch,” Bruce added, then glanced at Thorne. “And that’s her other cat.”

“I think I figured that out.” Misty grinned at Wicked, who rolled her eyes.

“I swear I’m going to eat you,” Thorne growled at Bruce.

Vin liked him instantly.

“Vin.” He held out his hand toward Thorne. “Nice to meet you. I think I’m staying in one of your rentals.”

“Yeah, Rafe’s talked a lot about you and your ventures in Mexico.” Thorne shook his hand with a smirk.

“I’m sure he has.” Vin snorted. “And I bet he embellished the hell out of his part.”

“So he knows about the things you and Rafe did?” Misty gave him a sideways glance that promised that conversation wasn’t over, but thankfully she turned back to Wicked. “It’s nice to meet you. Bruce said you’re the best tattoo artist there ever was. I’ve always wanted one, but never knew who to go to.”

“Wow.” Wicked gave Bruce a mock look of surprise. “You actually gave me a compliment.”

“I have my moments.” Bruce looked at Misty, and something about the smug little bastard’s expression put Vin on alert. “Speaking of moments, tonight is going to be one of mine because me and Fat Bastard are going to sweep this karaoke contest.”

Vin hadn’t known Bruce long, but he already knew that damn cat was up to something.

“I don’t know, Bruce.” Thorne chuckled. “Those raccoons sounded pretty good. And Roger singing ‘Let’s Get It On’ wasn’t bad either. Fitting song for a rabbit Shifter.”

Bruce snorted. “He sounded nothing like Marvin Gaye.”

“Who gave Fat Bastard the microphone?” Wicked asked, and they all looked toward the small stage.

“Hmm. I wonder.” Bruce snickered, his gaze sliding toward Misty.

“Okay, folks,” Fat Bastard announced. “Our next contestant, singing ABBA’s ‘Dancing Queen,’ is Misty!”

The crowd erupted, Bruce louder than anyone.

Vin felt Misty tense against him as every eye in the place turned their way, but instead of backing down, something shifted in her expression. She slowly looked down at Bruce.

“What? You couldn’t pick a harder song?”

Bruce’s smug look slipped. “What?”

Misty bent slightly, making damn sure he heard every word. “Karaoke was about the only fun I was ever afforded, and ‘Dancing Queen’ is a classic I’ve sung more times than I can count.” Her eyes narrowed. “And one more thing. Never challenge me to anything, because no matter how much I don’t want to do it, I’ll do it just to prove your ass wrong.”

“Shit,” Bruce hissed, suddenly looking a little nervous.

“Prepare to lose...cat.” Straightening, Misty headed toward the stage as the crowd parted to let her through.

Wicked sighed. “How much did you bet, Bruce?”

“Let’s just say I’m fucked.” Bruce took off through the crowd, cursing loudly as Wicked shook her head.

Vin’s laughter faded as Misty stepped onto the stage and took the microphone from Fat Bastard. He could sense her nervousness as she looked out over the packed bar, and when her eyes found his, every instinct he had told him to go to her. Instead, he stayed right where he was and gave her a wink followed by an encouraging nod.

A smile curved her lips.

Then Misty opened her mouth and began to sing.

Vin didn’t know the song, but he didn’t need to. He’d heard her sing before, but seeing her up there was something entirely different. Before long, the whole damn bar was moving with her, the crowd having just as much fun as she was while Misty sang her heart out.