The Lying, the Witch, and the Werewolf (Down & Dirty Supernatural Cleaning Services Book 4) Kate Quinn (read this if txt) 📖

Adorra smiles. “Of course, that’s perfectly natural.”

I sigh with relief, happy that for now I’ve smoothed things over, even if I am still at the mercy of the incubus’s charms. Asking for the birth control spell probably already singled me out a little. Insisting on an anti-incubus spell might bring more attention than an undercover cult guest needs.

Adorra takes us on a little tour of the compound—er, um, commune. I make a mental note to see how others refer to this particular living situation, and do as they do. When in Rome, and all that. And—if some of the things I’ve heard about Ancient Rome are true—that comparison might be dead-on.

I have my own yurt, just a small thing with a cot, meant for sleeping. Adorra assures me that as I become more comfortable with the group lifestyle, I’ll require less and less privacy. My suitcase and broom are already in the tent, and I see that there is a small mat for Shit as well as water and food bowls. He wanders over to, sniffing at the contents, then looks at me for permission. I nod, and he eats ravenously. I’m half-worried that Adorra will think I don’t feed him, but she only smiles.

“We have a special concoction that the kitchen whips up fresh every morning for the Dalmanther pack,” she says, as Shit sniffs his bowl for more, then lets out a high, piercing whine. That must be some special stuff, for sure, because I’ve never heard that particular sound before. Slightly miffed that my dog prefers sex-cult fare to my table scraps, I call him to my side. We continue our tour, and I’m glad to find out that Cassie has been assigned the yurt next to mine.

Adorra then shows us a few of the bigger tents, complete with king-size beds, silk sheets, and plenty of sex toys laying around.

“These are usually full,” Adorra explains, “but we do realize that some initiates need an adjustment period, so we try to ease you into the lifestyle here with the first tour.”

I give the beds a professional once-over, but they seem okay. “Is everything, um… cleaned regularly?”

“Yes, of course,” Adorra immediately puts my mind at ease. “We aren’t heathens,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “Moving forward, just be aware that even if the mattresses are all occupied, most couples will allow you to watch. If you want to join in let them know verbally, and then wait for an indication that you are cleared to enter.”

Cassie giggles like a high school girl, and I wonder if she’s at all ready for this. For that matter, am I?

“Can I make a phone call?” I ask, testing the waters.

“Of course,” Adorra assures me. We walk across a large clearing where a long line of people are waiting at the doors of a giant Victorian mansion. It looks like a grander version of my own house…minus any dead body deliveries from VSK on the porch. It’s in great shape, from the gables and turrets right down to the decorative woodwork. This is an old house, but somebody has put a lot of money into the upkeep.

Shit suddenly stops dead, his ears pricked forward, one paw up, pointing as he spots a Dalmanther in the distance. There are several, actually. This must be the pack Adorra referred to before. They are playing together, the younger pups rolling around in the grass. I can’t help but notice that the older ones have picked a more mature sport, one that Together We Come must surely be proud of.

Shit whines again and looks up at me with his puppy dog eyes.

“Shit, I don’t know…” I start.

I’m a little worried about how things will go down, and if Shit will be able to find a place in the pack. He’s a monster in my house; a TV, most of my bras, a couch, and all of Darron’s shoes have fallen victim to his bad habits. Just about the only thing that has survived his appetites is my vibrator. But Shit is still a young Dalmanther, and a couple of the adults in the pack look like they could tear him in half if they decided to.

When they hear him whine, they bound over. A sudden motherly instinct makes me step in front of him, arms raised as if I can fend off an entire pack. They come to a halt, eyeing me before bowing to Shit politely. Shit bows back—not sure that I'll ever get used to that—and then it’s a butt-sniffing party. Shit gets especially curious about one big boy’s meaty danglers, causing Adorra to smile.

“I think he’s found his mentor,” she says.

I don’t know how I feel about Shit having a mentor that isn’t me. Suddenly there are tears pricking my eyes and I feel like a young mother putting her kindergartner on the bus for the first day of school.

What is even with my emotions right now? I’m crying during the introductory tour of a sex cult.

“It’s completely safe,” Adorra assures me, touching my arm. “No one will harm him. If anything he will come back to you happy and tired and probably full of treats.”

When his chosen mentor Dalmanther leads Shit over to a female and she immediately shows them both her belly, I’m a little worried that Shit might come back to me a proud father. But I guess they have to grow up sometime.

“Go on, Shit,” I tell him. “Behave!” I shout at his retreating back, as the pack takes off. I give the female Shit had been interested in a particularly harsh mama side-eye, like a warning to keep her butt away from my boy.

Adorra leads us inside the mansion, bypassing the line. “Um, are we like… cutting?” Cassie asks, twisting some of her hair in her fingers.

“No, dear, but there is a class if that’s what you’re—” Adorra quickly changes tactics when she realizes that Cassie is talking about the line of people, not any