Table of Contents

Cover

Table of Contents

Acclaim for Selena Illyria

Look for these titles from Selena Illyria

Title Page

Copyright Warning

Copyright Warning

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Epilogue

About the Author

Also by Selena Illyria

More Romance from Etopia Press

Acclaim for Selena Illyria

For Renny's Mate

“With fun and engaging characters, this was a cute short story.”

—Gabrielle of You Gotta Read This

For Seven Sins Inn: Pietro & Callisto

“[A] definite page turner and one I would recommend to anyone looking for an interesting and sizzling tale.”

—Fuchsia of Long and Short Reviews

For Dragons at Midnight

“Right from the start I was immersed into the wonderful world that this author brings to us and I hope that it is not my last.”

—Gabrielle of You Gotta Read This

For Dragons at Samhain

“I loved seeing that connection. The two men knew just what Carissa needed and were not afraid to give it to her.”

—Gabrielle of You Gotta Read This

For Dragon Ugly

“The sparks fly from the moment they meet and grow into an intense love. Not only did I enjoy meeting Brent and Carissa but the rest of the characters endeared themselves to me as well. I really enjoyed my visit to this world and hope to return again soon.”

—Gabrielle, The Romance Studio

Look for these titles from Selena Illyria

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Dragon New Year

Dragon Ugly

Dragons at Midnight

“Dragons at Samhain” Halloween Heat II

Bachelor Auction

Mate Not Wanted

Goal: A Mate

At Drogan’s Command

Carnevale and Subterfuge

Renny’s Mate

Seven Sins Inn: Pietro & Callisto

Fallen Lovers: Roman

Flushed and Fevered

Bewitching the Vampire

Making Demons Purr

Outfoxing Mysta

In Print

“Dragons at Samhain” Halloween Heat II

Renny’s Mate (Beach Bums Anthology)

Seven Sins Inn: Pietro & Callisto (Demon Heat Anthology)

The Dragon New Year Collection

Outfoxing Mysta

Flushed and Fevered Book Three

Selena Illyria

Etopia Press

Copyright Warning

EBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared, or given away. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to or downloaded from file sharing sites, or distributed in any other way via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000 (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/).

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Published By

Etopia Press

1643 Warwick Ave., #124

Warwick, RI 02889

http://www.etopiapress.com

Outfoxing Mysta

Copyright © 2015 by Selena Illyria

ISBN: 978-1-944138-07-3

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First Etopia Press electronic publication: September 2015

DEDICATION

For Jodi. Malcolm is all yours. ;-)

CHAPTER ONE

Samhain in full effect. Mysta dodged a group of people tossing tissue paper up and onto trees. An arc of white fluttered through the sky, catching on a branch. The trail spilled down to the ground, twisting and turning in a stray breeze. Loose magic and cool air raised goose bumps on her skin. Her heartbeat stuttered. Her snake cringed and hissed at every brief interaction with the public. Too many people around, too much noise, too much magic.

She focused on the brick and mortar library in the distance. The tall, gold lettering was her beacon of calm. People staggered around on the sidewalks and in the streets, blocking traffic, hooting and hollering and holding up their drinks, toasting the night. A few she knew called out to her. She gave a halfhearted wave and sped up to get away from them. The temptation to turn and run back to the office overwhelmed her.

She shook her head and pressed on. Duty came before fear. Bridget needed her to research hobgoblins, and this was the only time she had over the next week or so. She couldn’t find any peace at home, not with Vivi, her friend and co-worker Sera’s half-sister, hiding at her place. Any minute Vivi’s mother Francie could burst in. Mysta wanted to stave off any black leopard drama—especially in her home—for as long as possible. And especially with rumors of issues within the Leap—what black leopard shifters called themselves when together—being whispered about. So the library it was.

She rushed up the stone steps, dodging a few children toting pumpkin carries and dressed in stereotypical witch costumes, warts, pointy hats and all, pulled open one of the double doors and entered only to stop short.

Sitting at the front desk, feet up on the countertop and reading a book was Viktor.

Seeing his tousled blond hair, tight T-shirt, and silver-rimmed glasses made her breath halt in her chest. The moment broke apart. Old fear, anger, and confusion washed through her. Why was he here?

She gritted her teeth and shook her head. She couldn’t get distracted by past emotions. Mysta inhaled the perfume of ink, vellum, wood, incense, and a hint of spice from the magic that floated around the library, using it to ground her. She couldn’t focus on Viktor.

As if sensing her gaze, he lifted his chin. A smile curved his lips. He lifted his hand.

She shook her head. She wasn’t going to get sucked into a conversation. She rushed past him and aimed for the section dealing with hobgoblins.

She grabbed volumes specific to banishing or vanquishing them, then settled down at a table in the back, far away from the front desk and Viktor. She spread out her study materials, notebooks, and pencils and got to work.

Or at least she tried to. It was no use. Viktor’s name whispered through her mind. The ghost of his cologne swirled around her reminding of her what she’d left behind. Pain splintered along her fingers as the shift tried to find a foothold. Tears blurred her vision. She blinked the moisture away. No, no, no, this couldn’t happen here.

Mysta stood up and walked away from the study area. The farther she got from the table and the closer she came to the front desk, the more her symptoms ticked up. An ache blossomed in the pit of her stomach. Her magic came alive. The wood of the shelves responded, swaying toward her. Her heart raced, and sweat beaded along her brow. She needed to make this stop right now.

She halted, closed her eyes, and began going through the warrior yoga positions to gain some semblance of control. Magic slithered down her arms and across her shoulders, ruffling her shirt over her breasts, and brushed against her stomach. Calm settled over her as she went through the asanas. She could feel the solidity of the wooden floor rising up through her feet and legs and deep into the core of her being. She let her magic flow out, drawing in what moisture and warmth there was in the air. Fire flared in the pit of her stomach and serenity filled her as she reached out to the elements that gave her strength and aided her magic.

The change pulled back. Her fingers returned to normal. Becoming a snake in a public research library would not endear her to Shevon, the head librarian, even though Shevon wasn’t on duty.

“Viktor,” her snake whispered. The sound sent a wave of calm through her, followed by a burst of need. She ground her teeth against the desire. Stop it, she ordered herself. She took in some deep breaths, and once her calm was reestablished, she slinked through the aisles keeping watch for both Viktor and any books she might need for further study. Her boots echoed in the muted atmosphere.

Chuckles drew her attention to a passageway, which led to the defensive magic section. She peeked into the corridor and found a group of three preteens circled around a snail. Glyphs ringed the boundary, along with tea candles. One of the boys waved a starter wand—a short wand that young witches and warlocks used to practice with—at the gastropod, causing it to float in the air, rotate, and jump all while in the confines of the circle. Droplets of goo fell to the floor.

Mysta’s stomach threatened to rebel. She tamped the urge to vomit down.

“Come on, make it jump higher,” one of the immature warlocks urged. His voice cracked on the last word. Acne scars marked his oily face. A frizzy bowl cut framed his pointed features making his large nose more noticeable.

“Dude, make it secrete more goo. If this is gonna be defensive it needs to be able to give off more crap,” another one whined.

She swallowed down more of her nausea. The young warlocks’ words sank in. Defensive? A snail? Oh, no, it wouldn’t work if they didn’t transfigure the slug they were trying to use. They needed to start with the softer parts. Mysta wanted to give them some pointers. She stepped forward, ready to instruct them on how to avoid disaster, when a finger tapped her shoulder.

Viktor.

He smirked at her, his jade-green eyes glimmering. Memories of all the times in the past when she’d caught him staring at her while she’d been studying flooded her brain.

What are they doing? he mouthed. His stare raked her from head to toe, lingering on her lips.

For a moment she was struck by how pink his mouth looked. The tip of his tongue slipped out, wetting the plump flesh, causing it to glisten. Drawing her to kiss him. Her mouth warmed at the notion of tasting his lips once more. Stop that, she ordered herself. She latched on to his question.

“Defensive magic,” she whispered.

“With a slug?” Revulsion filled every line of his face. He pushed his silver-rimmed glasses up on his nose.

Her brain went into geek mode, and she acted on autopilot, explaining the situation in a low voice. “It can be done with the right spell, and if they’re up on their transfiguring information. But if they screw up we’ll be wiping snail guts off of us and everywhere, and then Shevon will flail them alive.” She peeked back at the trio. The slug continued to jump in the air and, horror of horrors, it was growing. It even gave off a weird sulfuric smell. She scrunched up her nose. Another flood of nausea hit her, accompanied by a wave of light-headedness. She swayed on her feet, reaching out to grab hold of a shelf to steady herself.

“This needs to stop.” Viktor brushed by her and raised his voice, addressing the boys. “Okay, guys, enough.”

The kids stilled, eyes wide. Two of the boys scooted away from their grotesque experiment to opposite sides of the area. The third remained where he was, eyes narrowed at Viktor. “We have every right. Shevon is my aunt. I could get you fired.” His high, snotty voice grated on Mysta’s nerves.

Viktor pulled out a few paper towels from his back pocket. “I doubt Shevon will do any such thing. Here, use this to wipe up the goo with this and get out. I won’t risk the library going up in flames or something worse happening just so you can get better at defensive magic. Now leave, and I won’t tell your aunt you almost got snail guts on her precious tomes.” He lifted a hand. A spark of energy appeared and grew in size, forming into a ball of light. He nodded toward the door.

The two boys who had backed away crashed into each other hastening for the exit. “Come on!” one shouted. “He’s gonna try and fry us.”

The third boy bent down, grabbed the snail, and followed his friends. In his rush to leave, he smudged the salt forming the circle, creating an opening. The buildup of magic oozed out. The sulfuric smell increased. A ripple of power lashed out at Mysta. She hissed as her snake rose to flick it off.

Great. She closed her eyes and drew on her power to tamp down the loose magic before it caused any trouble. She imagined her power as a solid plane of thick wood and pressed it into the drifting tendrils of the spell, pushing the magic down into the floor, where the golden oak boards absorbed the power. The magic weakened until she could feel only a faint trace of energy.

“Ugh. Shevon’s going to kill that kid. I’ll clean up here. You get back to studying.” Viktor crouched down. His Henley rose up to reveal a sliver of deep golden skin and a hint of a tattoo that disappeared under the cream-colored fabric.

The sight stopped her short. Questions swirled around her brain. When had he… How long had…?

Her thoughts scattered. Not her business.

“Okay. Thanks.” She turned on her heel and rushed to an area of seclusion: her table. Once among the familiarity and safety of her possessions, her calm returned to her.

She buried herself in the written word, trying to ignore images of peeling off Viktor’s shirt to get a better look at the ink work and maybe to leave love bites all over his back. It didn’t work. She read the same paragraph several times but didn’t understand a word. Transferring her attention to another book only made the words blur together. Frustrated, she got up and headed for the Mischievous Creatures section.

Lights flashed, and overhead she heard the explosions from the fireworks celebrating Samhain. Time was ticking by. She had to find more materials on hobgoblins for the case Bridget was working. So far there wasn’t a lot mentioned in the texts.

She needed to focus. Bridget was depending on her to come back with this information. She bent over the page and finally managed to lose herself in the paragraphs. Everything else faded away. Only the words mattered to her right now.

“Do you need anything? Coffee, cocoa, water?” Viktor’s rich voice drifted to her, jolting her out of her musings.

The low tenor sent shivers through her. Her heart ticked up, and her thoughts scattered. Remnants of her arousal flared to life, pushing their way to the forefront and forestalling any annoyance at being interrupted. Her skin tingled, and her body warmed. Her heart beat a rapid tattoo against her rib cage. Liquid heat filled her sex.

She looked around and spotted him in a corridor nearest to her, leaning against a shelf as casual as you please, legs crossed at the ankle and arms folded over his chest. His shirt stretched over the hard wall of his pecs and muscular biceps.

“You know I don’t drink or eat anything while I’m researching or studying.” She tried to sound disgruntled. The words came out softer, breathier than she wanted. She checked her watch. She’d been reading for an hour.

He didn’t move toward her. “Did you have dinner? I have some leftovers from The Java Demon Café. Double bacon cheeseburger with mushrooms, your favorite. No fries though. I can pop it into the mini convection oven in the employee lounge.”

Her traitorous stomach grumbled. “Viktor.”

“I remember a time when you called me Vik and you were happy to see me. I also remember all those moments when you cried out my name when you came.” His neutral, careful tone belied the dark fire and need in his eyes.

An ache spread through her heart. Old, scabbed wounds ripped open and created runnels of blood in her soul. “Please, don’t remind me.”

“I’ve been in town for a year, Mys. I don’t need to say something to remind you. My presence should be enough.” He shoved his worn, callused, and scarred hands into the pockets of the tightest jeans she’d ever seen. The denim stretched over a noticeable ridge tenting the fabric.

She swallowed and tried to ignore the fission of heat that danced along her spine. A memory surfaced of Viktor above her, pushing his hips forward, his cock sinking in so slowly she wanted to scream and demand he move faster. She’d struggled against the leather straps that held her to bed and limited her ability to drive down on him and take him deeper.

“Mys? Your body temperature spiked.” He crossed his arms over his chest again.

Rather than stare into his eye, she focused on the patch of skin revealed by the open top button at the hollow of this throat. A hint of green ink peeked out at her. Just how far did it go down?

She swallowed and pushed aside her musings.

“Wondering about this?” He tugged down his collar a bit to show off more of the hidden image.

She gritted her teeth, hating he could read her so well. “Just remembering how it used to be and how much you’ve changed.”

He pushed up his glasses with his middle finger. “Memories can be a dangerous thing.”

The heaviness in his soft voice hit her in the gut. She waited for him to push her and bring up something else from their past.

“Look, you left without a warning. I just want to know why…”

Mysta lifted her chin. “We had an agreement. No questions, no explanations needed, and no strings. We could walk away from each other any time.” Could a person break a deal if it was a year later?

Besides what was she going to say? Fear of marriage, of commitment? The words rolled around her head. A lump formed in her throat. She tried to swallow around it. Energy coursed through her legs demanding she get up and run, but there was no way she’d get far enough away from him. Not even Pluto or another galaxy would be far enough.

Despite the rapid thud of her heart, she longed to touch his hair. The last time she’d seen him it had been clipped in a buzz cut, so close that the skin of his scalp showed through the blond fuzz. She pushed away those memories to focus on him here in the present. Despite his relaxed attitude, tension filled every line of his body as if he was ready to spring at her slightest movement. Maybe to stop her from running again or to go to her and kiss her senseless. She didn’t know.

Viktor moved with a slow gait, the deliberate steps of a predator coming toward prey. He stopped at the table’s edge and leaned down and brought his face so close his nose almost touched hers.

“You don’t know what I want to hear, and besides I made the rules. I can break them.” The humidity of his breath kissed her lips. She smelled the sweetness of mint and a hint of cinnamon. Her flesh warmed. She almost met him, almost kissed him, almost. Goddess, she wanted to touch him, to bury her hands in his longer hair, kiss him senseless, taste him, feel all his strength and solidity against her, take off his glasses and see if the heat was real and she wasn’t imagining it.

His eyelashes fluttered, and his eyelids slid down, but she didn’t miss the desire that burned in their peridot depths. A moan slipped out of her. He inhaled. His nostrils flared, and his warm breath caressed her face.

His rich, shadowed scent swirled around her. In his cologne was leather, the darkness of the forest, the richness of earth, a hint of danger, a tang of mystery, and just a bit of incense. Her tongue flicked out and touched his bottom lip. He groaned.

She wanted to feel the sound rumble deep inside of her while he kissed her, the vibrations beating against her mouth as his tongue dove deeper. Sweat slipped down from her temple to trace along her chin as all thoughts of studying, learning more, and research evaporated.

Viktor pulled back and smirked. “Don’t start none, and you won’t get some,” he drawled. A hint of that Southern accent she had always loved rolled over her.

She swore and yanked back. “I wasn’t— I didn’t— Just leave me alone.” The words rushed out, holding no depth, just desperation.

“Can’t. You’re my mate. Whether you believe it or not, sugar, is up to you, but, I just can’t leave you alone, as you say. And I won’t. I’m going to get answers, honey, one way or another.” He turned on his heel and strode down a darkened aisle. His cowboy-boot heels thudded against the aged floor echoing the rhythm of her heart.

“Damn him.” The words came out as a whisper, but it might as well have been a shout in the quiet. In the distance she heard a low chuckle. She swore and rolled her head and tensed her arms and fisted her hands allowing the stress to drain away. Something caught her preternatural senses.

She lifted up her head and blinked. Her senses extended outward. Viktor was at the front desk. The kids had gone, and something moved in the inky blackness of the forbidden sections of the library. It reached out for her and something slammed against her mental shields. She jerked her attention back and frowned. What was it?

She shook her head. She couldn’t focus on that now. She bowed her head and immersed herself in the books but heard Viktor’s footsteps around her. He didn’t say anything, just walked around and left.

A dark bitter sweetness perfumed the air. Her taste buds tingled, and her mouth began to water as slow recognition dawned on her. Chocolate. Creamy, rich, sinful dark chocolate. She glanced all around until her gaze snagged down on the floor. Chocolate coins wrapped in gold, bronze, and silver foil along with tea candles formed a line from where she sat toward the front. The words follow me were spelled out a foot from her chair. What the hell?

Her stomach growled. She needed a break. Tension sang through her neck and shoulders, and her butt hurt from sitting on a hard chair for the last hour and half.

“Fine, I’ll take a break and eat and after that I go back to the books.” She got up and collected the candy, following the trail.

She arrived at the front desk to find the countertop covered in various sized candles casting golden pools of light, melting the darkness in the empty aisles away and brightening the area. A plate of two double bacon cheeseburgers with mushrooms sat next to two glasses of wine.

Viktor leaned his elbows on the countertop, a grin on his face. Mischief glittered in his eyes. “Welcome.” He nodded next to him.

He came around the table. His facial expression was inscrutable. Tension ran over his body emanating in waves. He wasn’t shielding himself from her. What was going on with him? She wanted to walk over to him, wrap her arms around him, and hold him tight and at the same time run the other way. The distance between them seemed uncrossable. She didn’t have the right to hold him. Someone else had the job, right? Guy as gorgeous as him couldn’t be single, right?

Her heart lurched, and her stomach roiled. It wasn’t her business, she told herself. It didn’t matter. Besides, she’d left him behind when she moved to Evenfall for her job as Bridget’s familiar.

She glanced down at her feet. The toes of her boots were scuffed and needed some shine. Maybe it was time to get some new ones. She allowed the thoughts to distract her.

“Hey, why don’t you sit down?” Viktor moved closer to her and held out his hand.

She found the gumption to move. She closed the distance and settled down on a stool, close to him. He stepped up to her and grinned.

Viktor reached out and cupped her face. For a moment she thought he was going to kiss her. Hope blossomed inside of her. The warmth of his touch spread, and her heart tripped over itself. She inhaled. Her skin tingled where he touched her. The dull sound of fireworks exploding overhead could be heard, but for the life of her she couldn’t turn her gaze toward the skylight to see what color combinations the witches in charge had come up with. Her world had narrowed down to the light green of his eyes. This close she could see his pale eyelashes, the freckles across the bridge of his nose, the way his delicate nose upturned at the tip, and the smile curled on his light pink lips.

“Got your favorite wine,” he whispered. “And more chocolate. You ready to eat?” He gave her nose a quick peck and backed away. “Come on, who’s it going to hurt to share a meal with me?”

Disappointment filled her at such a simple touch. Damn it. How could she resist him?

Fireworks rocked the building. She pulled her attention away from him, afraid to drown in those eyes once more and darted a look at the skylight that gave a glimpse of the night sky. Colors of green, blue, yellow, orange, and pink formed flowers against the inky black, blotting out stars and moon. Mysta tilted her head back and watched as someone in stereotypical witch garb on a broomstick streaked across the sky. She groaned. Of course a few of the local covens would get drunk and decide to use flying spells. They were probably buzzed with all the free magic floating around.

“Would your Bridget be so daring?” Viktor asked. Humor laced his voice.

“No. She hates heights, and none of us would be willing to get on a broomstick. Not much keeping you from falling off and the distance between the ground and sky. Well…” She shuddered. “Besides there are no spells to buckle you to the broom. There’s also the question of why do it.” Not enough money, boots, chocolate, or jewelry could convince her it would be worth it.

“I don’t know, for the adventure?” Amusement tinged his voice.

“Uuuuh, no. This is where we differ. You enjoy skydiving and bungee jumping. I prefer my feet planted on terra firma. Planes, trains, and cars are fine ways to travel.” A memory of his old car surfaced, followed by a brush of heat at memories of all the kisses and heavy petting they did in the backseat. She smiled. “Remember the blue devil?”

Viktor’s face brightened, and his eyes glinted with joy. “How could I forget? Gorgeous, restored Mustang convertible.”

“Nancy Drew’s car.” She couldn’t resist needling him.

Viktor pointed his index finger at her, a serious expression on his face. His eyes sparked with irritation. “Not Nancy Drew’s car. A classic.”

“It was blue—”

“Not Nancy Drew’s car.”

“It was a Mustang.”

“Not—”

“It was made by Ford.” She smiled, delight drowning out the slight desire in her body.

“Look, Nancy just has good taste, that’s all.” He shook his head. The thick, blond waves of his hair fell forward, obscuring one eye. He reached up and pushed it back.

She moved closer to him. It was too much fun to tease him, so much that she could temporarily forget her desire and her need for distance. “Why can’t you just admit you have a car in common with Nancy Drew?”

He huffed out a breath. “Because you keep taking the piss out the blue devil. And we don’t share a car. She’s a fictional character.”

“And because you can’t stand that I called your precious car a girlie car.”

He shook his head. “Do I make fun of your Aston obsession?”

“It’s different. It’s James Bond’s car. It’s cool,” she pointed out.

“And Nancy Drew’s car isn’t?”

“Well it doesn’t have an ejector seat or shoot missiles from the headlights. It’s nice, but it’s not an Aston.” Just thinking about the vehicle sent a shiver of pleasure up her spine.

Viktor rolled his eyes. “You’re a car snob, is what you are.” He headed around the counter.

“And? A girl’s gotta have standards.”

“Right, so where were your standards when your parents got you the Bug?” He bent down and brought up a fat stack of napkins.

“Well it was kind of cute…” She was lying. It had been a hideous rust bucket, but it was her duty to defend it since it was her first car and all her family could afford at the time.

“It’s was bright yellow.” He enunciated his words slowly.

“Okay, fine. It was a piece of crap and needed to be jumped at least three times a week just to get it going, and one windshield wiper didn’t work no matter what you did to it, and it always smelled of curry even though the old owner hated the stuff, but still…it was…cute. It had a happy face sticker we could never get off.” She shrugged. “And who wouldn’t want a smiley face on their car?”

“Ha! Just as stubborn as usual.” He faced her now. “So dinner, ready for it?”

No, but she didn’t say it aloud. Her stomach rumbled. She still hadn’t found anything on hobgoblins for Bridget, and it looked like this would be a long night. Viktor wouldn’t leave her alone so long as she stayed here to research. She might as well play nice. Maybe then he’d leave her be.

“Sure, why not.” She joined him at the table and sat down on a stool. What harm could eating with him do?

CHAPTER TWO

Viktor’s skin pricked with awareness. Her rich perfume mingled with the remnants of incense, protective magic, and the bottle of strawberry Riesling he’d just opened. His fox senses were heightened. He could hear her heartbeat with clarity, feel her lust, her shyness and fear. Questions swirled around in his head.

Three years ago when they’d begun dating they’d made a deal: no questions or answers if one or the other walked away. She’d been the one to leave without a word. It had taken him a year to find her, once he’d put together his family’s affairs and could get away. Mysta was his mate, and he would do anything to finish what he’d begun before she’d left him. But first he needed to get her to forget about their previous deal and accept a relationship with him with all the strings that came with that.

Sitting across the counter from her, he took her in, trying to find any trace of the woman he’d fallen for. In the beginning he’d been attracted to her diamond-shaped face with her large brown eyes framed by dark brows and lashes that guarded her emotions. She could be so expressive once she’d opened up to him. Now they held secrets he couldn’t fathom. After a year of studying her from a distance, he could see that only a trace of her past self existed. Her full, raspberry-colored lips were the same, but they didn’t smile as often. Whenever she came into the library they either frowned in concentration or irritation.

He wanted to reach out, touch her, feel the warmth of her skin, see her vulnerable to him once more. Hold on to her arms and keep her still so she couldn’t run away from him.

But for now he needed to make her comfortable and put her at ease again.

The ground quaked and more fireworks burst in the sky. “Looks like they’re using the extra strength fireworks.” He slid one of the glasses over to Mysta. She caught it with ease but didn’t lift it to take a sip.

“Of course they are. It’s their holiday. They tend to cut loose.” Mysta shrugged. Despite the nonchalant gesture, tension lined every inch of her face. “I’m sure Shevon is enjoying the party atmosphere out there.”

He picked up a bottle of beer, popped the top, and took a sip to keep from staring at her. She lifted her hand to adjust her glasses, now with thin silver borders rather than the thick blue frames. So many differences, and yet somewhere in there had to be the woman he loved.

Silence stretched out between. He could feel her pulling away from him. Sensation rippled along his palms as the urge to close the distance grabbed him like a chokehold. He swallowed and put down the bottle. A tremor ran down his arm, making his hand shake. Unlike werewolves or feline shifters, kitsune, or fox shifters, weren’t affected much by Lunar Lust. But with all the energy in the air he was buzzed, and his reactions were exaggerated.

She broke the silence first. “Is it still hot?” She nodded toward the burger.

Viktor relaxed. “Yeah, heated it up in Shevon’s oven, so the buns wouldn’t get soggy.”

“Normally, you have beer with a burger.” She pulled the plate toward her. “A nice dark ale, maybe?”

“Wanted something different.” There was no way in hell he would go out to the Goblin’s Prick Pub, not in this atmosphere with free magic roaming around and drunks partying it up. The streets would be chaos, and a bar on Samhain is not the place to be.

“No, you wanted to lure me into dinner with you. The burger was just a meal, but the wine, well…” Minute emotion quivered in her eyes.

“Was special to us,” he finished. She wasn’t going to get off easy.

She turned her attention to her plate, picked up the sandwich and bit into it. Her eyelashes fluttered, and her lids closed. “Oh my goddess, so good.”

Liquid fire filled his groin as his cock and balls responded to the sound and words. He licked his lips. “I remember when you made those noises and said those same words when I went down on you,” he said, unable to resist.

She held up a finger. A warning flashed in her eyes. “Don’t.”

But he didn’t miss the way her pupils enlarged. Her breathing had increased just a tick and he could sense her body heating up. The sound of her heartbeat echoed in his ears. The denser hormones of her Lunar Lust floated into the air.

Like most others, snake shifters did get Lunar Lust but not as bad as, say, feline shifters or werewolves. Nor did they talk about it. It was an in-species secret shared only with a chosen few.

She took another bite. She still hadn’t touched her wine.

“Yes, I did. And regardless of how you act. I can sense your arousal, your desire.” Goddess, he loved flirting with her.

“I don’t think this wine would go well with the burger.” She pointed from one item to the other. Her lips formed a moue of disgust.

“You can avoid your attraction to me all you want but you can’t ignore it for long.” He pulled open the door of the mini fridge Shevon kept under the countertop of the front desk and pulled out a sparkling water. “There. Happy now?”

“Yes, I am.” She grabbed it, pulled the tab up, and began chugging.

“Whoa, slow down. You’ll burn your throat.”

She let out a deep burp. Twin spots of red colored her cheeks. “Excuse me.”

“No need. I’ve seen you burp before.” Amusement lit him up from the inside.

She ducked her head, her face still flushed. “You remember our first date?”

“What?” For a second he was confused. Then understanding dawned on him. “That’s right. I gave you a seltzer because you hated the beer I chose.”

“It was a bad flat beer. I taught you better.” She grinned. “Anyway, remember the bookstore you worked at? Every day you’d try to talk to me. I finally capitulated when you offered to take me to Oktoberfest.”

“Best first date I’d ever had. I’d always wanted to go but never could find the time. I loved seeing you like that, laughing and smiling. It was beautiful.”

He wanted to keep her smiling and remembering the good times between them. “Do you remember how the door of the bookstore always got stuck, and the carpet always, always smelled of wet dog no matter how many cleaning services came, even when we lit candles and sprayed all the air freshener we could get our hands on? It’s still there, you know?” He shook his head. “The chipped lettering is worse and there are leaks in the roof. Burt refuses to fix it the old-fashioned human way, keeps calling a witch to fix it. I think she’s charging him extra and causing the shit to happen. And he keeps asking me to come back and work for him. Needs the help he says.”

Mysta scrunched up her nose. “Wouldn’t surprise me, but he’s building up a crap ton of bad karma. I could find someone to fix it all, reasonable cost. Burt always gave me a discount when I came in. He was always nice to me even though I had him chasing all over the place for obscure spell books and research material. I doubt he really needs you. Just wants someone else to boss around and do the heavy lifting.”

“You were always sweet even if you were bitchy to me.”

She sipped her water. Her gaze resting on him, challenging him. “Well, you were annoying.”

“Flirty.”

“Persistent.” Defiance sparked in the brown depths.

His body hummed as they fell into their old patterns. “Interested.”

“Overbearing.” She stopped eating to lean forward.

His heart tugged. “Ambitious.”

She grumbled.

“What? I can’t hear you?”

Her shoulders slumped, a stubborn gleam in her eyes. “Pushy.”

Tired of her monosyllabic answers, he decided to push her. “I loved you the second I saw you, dressed up as if you were about to take on a mountain in the dead of winter, with that awful striped and tattered Doctor Who scarf covering half your face, those mittens that didn’t allow you to grip anything.” He leaned forward but didn’t reach out, not wanting to risk her pulling away from him. “Your glasses, with the chipped frames, that fogged as soon as you stepped inside. I couldn’t understand how the hell you were able to walk in those thick-soled leg warmers you called boots. And the coat? The yeti called. He still wants his fur back.”

She scowled. “I needed to heat up, and your store was the only one open, and it had books.”

“And don’t forget a peek at the good-looking guy behind the register in a tight sweater,” he added.

“Bullshit.” Her jaw worked back and forth, but her lips curved up in a tiny smile. It disappeared.

“You didn’t think I noticed but I did. You would come back during my shift, walk past the window, glance in, and enter if I was working the register.” He picked up his burger and took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. “You staked out the place for two months before the snow forced you to make a decision. There was a café next door, nice place, but packed with nowhere to sit, so you grabbed a hot chocolate and came into Burt’s, found an open seat, and sat there and read until closing time.”

She put down the water. Her face shuttered, any emotion draining away like a receding tide. “How did you know I checked the place out for two months? You never glanced at me.”

He grinned. “Because my senses would tell me you were there. I wouldn’t call what you did stalking, not in the least.”

She rolled her eyes. “Close to it. Why didn’t you say something? And why didn’t you tell me when you and I got together?”

“Stupid reason. I forgot. I was so happy to be with you it just slipped out of my mind. Didn’t see the point in telling you.” He took another bite of his burger.

“Heh, cute reason.” Her shoulder and face relaxed.

“So, should we fast-forward to the present?” He paused.

“What do you want to know?” The words were cautious.

“What do you do for Bridget? You come in here a lot. I doubt it’s just to look at my pretty face.”

She snorted. “Research and acquisitions of books, scrolls, and information on arcane and current knowledge. Napkins?” She glanced around.

He handed her a few from the stack he’d retrieved earlier. She selected a few sheets and dabbed her mouth. “Thanks. You going to try the wine and prove me right, or are you going to run out into the madness for beer?”

“Not on your life.” He took a sip of wine and frowned. “Yeah, you were right. Blech.”

“Told you.” She grinned and took a long drink from her water. “I’m glad my disgust in the combination of cheddar, strawberries, and bacon is amusing to you. Why don’t I hit myself in the nuts and see if that does the trick too?”

“That would be a bridge too far, but thanks for the offer.”

She took several swallows of her seltzer and let out another belch. “’Scuse me.”

“You’re excused. I’m glad we’re talking. This is a start, and I’ll take it.”

She shook her head. “And what do you think will happen? There will be a happy ending for us? This isn’t a pixie tale, and I’m not a princess.”

Old anger flared. “Bullshit, and yes, you’re not a princess.”

She glanced up at him in confusion. “Why are you so mad? It’s true. I’m not.”

“You’re a fucking queen, always have been to me. You deserve to be happy, Mys. I know, because you are my mate, and your joy is important to me.” He waited for her to deny it. “Your logic is wrong. Familiars can have mates.”

“Being a familiar is important. Love isn’t. This is my duty. It’s taken my family decades to finally be chosen, and to be bonded to a powerful family is more than I could’ve asked for. It’s an honor to be compatible with Bridget and aid her in her magical work.” She didn’t meet his eyes. Her words sounded flat.

“Yeah, yeah, cause I’m not a familiar. Try again. All complete and utter bullshit, sugar, and you know it. You can have it all without sacrificing anything.” He hadn’t thought she could hurt him any more than she had by leaving. Now he knew better.

“No, I can’t. It’s one or the other. If I fail it affects my family, and I can’t afford to let that happen, not to my siblings, not when we have regained the respect we lost.” She shook her head. “You never listened to me when I tried to explain.”

“Make me understand.” He spat out the dare with all the acidity and emotion he could muster.

“No one from my branch of the family has been chosen to be a familiar for decades. I’m the first in the last fifty years.” She lifted her chin and met his stare. Her brown eyes were black, and fire blazed away in the darkened pools. “You could never see what an honor it was.”

“You mean what a cash cow you’d become.” The bitterness seeped into every syllable.

She reared back as if slapped. “It wasn’t about money.”

“Tell it to someone else. I was there, Mys, I saw your family home, the tall, dry grass and weeds in the front yard, the cracked statuary, the broken windows and doors held together by duct tape and a prayer, the porch that could barely handle anyone’s weight on it. I met your father. He tried to sell me on that honor shit too. It didn’t work. I’m. Still. Here.” He punctuated the last three words by poking the worn, chipped, dented oak countertop.

“You’ve never had to deal with the pressure I have. You refused to even hear me out.”

“I know pressure, Mys. And I tried to hear you, but I never heard anything that didn’t involve family honor,” he growled. “I didn’t see the point in you denying yourself love to save a family that only saw you as another mouth to feed and a possible point of income when you turned eighteen and came into your full magic.” His heart pounded against his rib cage. His breath came out in gusts, and his blood roared in his ears. Stress filled every muscle and tendon of his body.

“You just won’t listen,” she whispered. “They never saw me as a cash cow. You only heard what you wanted to hear to justify your blindness.” Her shoulders hunched, and her body seemed to shrink in on itself.

“Damn you, don’t you dare withdraw from me. Don’t you dare hide. Where the hell is the fire and earth and the air? Where is the magic and the desire and the passion you showed me when we were together? I dare you to let me in again, Mys, because I sure as hell am not going anywhere.” He growled. His words bounced off the walls back at him. He had to make her hear him, see him somehow, some way.

“You don’t need to shout,” she yelled back. “I can hear you just fine.” Anger, fear, confusion, resentment flowed across her face in a succession.

“No, you can’t. You’re too busy letting your family fill your mouth with crap. I want to hear you, know your thoughts and emotions. I love you. I care about you. I want you to be happy, and now that I’ve found you again I refuse to walk away.” He had to make her see this was it for him. No turning back, no going home. This was where he belonged.

“You mean, unlike me, right? I was the coward.” Her voice was quiet. He almost didn’t hear it. Pain burst in his heart.

“Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“You didn’t have to say it. It was implied.” She sat up straight, shoulders back, chin up. A rattling sound filled her voice. Her serpentine other half was awake and engaged. Scales shifted over her skin. Inky blackness spread, enveloping her whole eye.

“Wrong! I would never call you a coward. Hiding, yes, but you are one of the strongest women I know next to my mother.” A memory surfaced of his mother from a year ago lying on her hospital bed, shrunken. Her skin, which had once been supple, looked dried up and so fragile it would evaporate at a touch. Despite her weakness there was fire in her pale green eyes and so much love for him. His heart ached at the loss of someone he’d looked up to his whole life.

“Ah, yes, Elaine.” Mysta glanced away, but not before he witnessed her eyes returning to the dark brown he loved once more, glittering with unshed tears. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know until after.”

“She loved you, baby, loved you like a daughter and missed you lots.” The wound in his heart reopened.

His mother’s past words echoed in his mind. “Find her, baby boy. Find her. She needs you.” His mother accepted Mysta without question and never doubted that he and Mysta were meant to be together.

“Was it painful?”

He shook his head and wiped a spot on the tabletop. “Not all the time. It was difficult, but she died comfortably surrounded by love.”

“I wish…”

“I know.” He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. He brought it up and brushed his lips across the knuckle, then released it.

“Vik—”

The lights shut down. The glow of the candles illuminated the front desk and a small circle around them but nothing else.

“Shit.” Viktor stood. “The generators have either gone or run out of magic. I’ll go check. Be right back.”

“Want help?” She looked around, unease on her face.

“If I’m not back in ten minutes and the swearing has stopped, call Malcom. His number is taped by the phone. I may have been eaten by the thing Shevon keeps as security.”

“What!” Her voice sounded strangled. Her panic hit him in the stomach as he left the station. “Who’s Malcom? What does Shevon keeps as security?”

He moved on through the library, calling on his fox to lend him some of its power to see in the dark and avoid falling over or bumping into things as he made his way back to the Power Room. He pushed open a large door. Shelves lined with potion bottles and jars lined the walls, each illuminated by the magic suspended in it.

He selected the three green ones Shevon had said kept the energy going, then went to the first generator. He flicked open the top of the tank where the potions should be poured in and checked to make sure the supply was depleted and not just gummed up. Empty. He uncorked the first container and poured in the mixture. Each of the other generators got the same treatment. Once done with that, he flicked the On switches and peeked over his shoulder. Dim yellow light glowed from the library beyond.

He left the generator room and shut the door behind him. Then he took a deep breath, gathering his emotions together.

Their talk had awakened some of the beasts he’d tried to put to bed over the last year. He’d let his anger get the best of him. There was no way he was going to drive her away by showing just how hurt and pissed he had been at her leaving him without a note. He had his suspicions on why she’d gone but couldn’t voice them at the moment. They were talking, the channel was open, and he refused to let it shut down because he’d gotten ahead of himself. He closed his eyes and did some deep breathing exercises until his heartbeat settled down. Then he stretched and ventured back toward the front desk.

CHAPTER THREE

The lights burst to life, blinding Mysta. She closed her eyes, then opened them a bit at a time until she could see her surroundings with clarity. Then she got up and headed to the bathroom, where she turned on the tap and filled her hands with ice-cold water. She sloshed some around her mouth to clear away the taste of the burger. So far it wasn’t too painful being around Viktor. At least it’s what she told herself.

She swished some more water around in her mouth, spit it out in the sink, and splashed some fresh water on her face. With care she wiped away some of her makeup and reapplied her lip gloss, then dried her hands and left the bathroom. She returned to the front of the library, where she settled on her stool, keeping an eye out for whatever security Shevon had running around the library or Malcolm, whoever that was.

She tried the wine. It was crisp and sweet as she remembered, with a hint of acidity, oak flavor, and tartness to keep her taste buds interested. Her thoughts circled around what they were discussing before the lights-out had occurred. The words returned full force: coward, fear of marriage, fear of failure.

Only a handful of shifters could claim familiar status, and she was one of them. Viktor had never understood the pressure she was under. To have magical abilities but not to have a witch or wizard to help could drive some Familiars mad. It was the fear most of her kind went through. They needed the magical dump just as much as witches did, even more so. Bridget had needed her, and she enjoyed being recognized not only for her powers but also for her book smarts. When Viktor had come into her life he had confused her priorities, tested the plan for her life in ways she’d never imagined a relationship could.

She took another taste of her wine. The alcohol buzzed in her veins muting her magic. Tension eased from her body, and she slumped in her seat. She glanced at the clock. Only fifteen minutes had passed since Viktor had gone to fix the generators. Why the hell was it taking so long?

Viktor emerged from among the shelves, a smile on his face.

Mysta returned his grin. “You know there was a time when I could drink an Irishman under the table. Now I get a buzz just smelling alcohol.” She stared at the glass of strawberry Riesling in disgust, then took another taste and another.

“Want some?” Maybe if he got drunk too he’d stop asking the questions and searching for the truth that made the pain come back.

“Yeah, I remember. We’d end up in the tank for a night because you were still too buzzed to be let loose on the town again. Or I’d be the one defending your honor against some asshole who wanted to cop a feel.” He smirked. “Good times.”

Mysta ducked her head. “Not her anymore.” Despite the words images of the old room she had shared with her younger sister, with two beds crammed into it and a few books scattered on the floor, came back to her. She drank down her glass and put it on the table. “Got anything stronger?”

Her mind flashed on a memory of pebbles being thrown at her window. A young man with pale blond hair stood in the moonlight. Her heart lurched.

“Mys, sugar?” Viktor’s voice tugged her out of her sadness.

She sighed. Her stress had ebbed away with the wine. It would be so easy to give in, to tell him. Give him all the excuses and answers she had inside of her. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

“What’s up, Mys? You okay? You look so sad.” He reached up and brushed back some of her hair. His finger traced along the edges of her glasses. Before she could stop him, he removed them. “There, no blinders. Now, please, tell me.” He gazed up at her with such clear green eyes it made her hurt even more.

“I need those.” She didn’t reach out to retrieve them.

“No, you don’t. Not with me.” He leaned forward until his face was only a hair’s width away. “Never with me, Mys.”

The memory of a peridot ring set in gold with diamond chips flashed in her mind. She pulled back, refusing to give in to the urge to kiss, to trace the seam of his mouth with her tongue. A glossy scar at the corner of his mouth drew her attention. She scooted back as far as the stool would allow without falling off to avoid touching him. Her hands flexed, balling into fists, squeezing and then relaxing as she fought with herself to keep from closing the distance between them. Damn him for seeking her out. They’d had a deal.

A tingle at the corners of her mind drew her attention. Something foreign was approaching. She slipped off her stool. Her body stilled, and her mind went blank, readying for an attack.

The front double doors burst open with a crash. The slabs of oak bounced off the walls, shuddered, and swung back to close.

Energy sizzled through her limbs throwing off the lethargy of the alcohol. She hissed and groaned. Warmth filled her mouth. Her tongue changed to a thin strip of muscle forked at the ends with poison-filled barbs. Her canines thinned and curved to needlelike thickness.

“Mys! No!” Viktor called out.

“Malcolm is here bearing Guinness and a board game! Ready to have your ass kicked in D&D?” A man strode in, confidence crackling around him. Sunglasses perched on his nose even though it was night, and he wasn’t wearing a jacket despite the chill. Like Viktor, he had on a Henley, only his was rust colored. Holes studded the shoulders and sleeves, and threads dangled from the hem. Baggy khakis and scuffed boots completed the look. His ink-black hair was slicked back from his face, allowing her to see his scarred features. Even with the shades on she could feel his stare weighing on her, a light presence that made her shift from one foot to the other.

Tension coiled in her stomach and limbs. She didn’t know who Malcolm was, but she sensed danger from him.

The stranger strode closer, bringing with him the slight hint of brimstone. Her head jerked.

“Demon?” She only knew two demons, and she barely trusted Carver and Thorn, who ran The Java Demon, as it was. Dealing with demons was an intricate gamble that brought on a headache at the very thought. There were so many loopholes, ins and outs, and unsaid implications that just having a conversation about coffee could cost you your soul if the demon was in the mood to take it. How did this demon know Viktor? What had Viktor been up to in the past year?

Viktor shook his head.

“Not even close, darlin’.” Malcolm pulled his glasses down, showing off gold-flecked, cobalt-blue eyes that were lit up with secret humor, life, and vibrancy and didn’t look remotely normal even for a shifter. “But I will be if that’s what you need.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Viktor swallowed down a grimace at Malcolm’s cheesy line. Malcolm swaggered toward the front desk. The hellhound’s heavy tread across the floor sounded as if doom trailed after him.

Mysta hadn’t backed down despite his called-out warning. She widened her stance, her front leg bent. Her hands were up, and her fingernails curled into claws. No emotion showed on her face.

Please, goddess, if you’ve ever heard me, hear me now, and let this be peaceful. He sent the thought to the goddess hoping she would hear his plea.

“Mal.” He nodded at Mal, hoping his friend would get the hint not to go into attack mode. He could feel Mysta’s unease shiver in the air and could taste the tang of fear and sweat. She eyed Malcolm like a snake eyeing prey or a possible enemy. He wanted to kick Malcolm out, send him home, but he doubted Mal would go.

Malcolm put the six-pack on the front desk with a thud followed by his messenger bag.

“Vik. Who’s this lovely woman?” Mal showed no sign of fear or wariness. He blinked, bringing attention to his long dark lashes.

Viktor rolled his eyes. “Mys, this is Malcolm. Mal this is Mysta, my ex- girlfriend.”

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t extend her hand. A few tense seconds passed as she continued to stare at Mal. Viktor sent up another prayer. Mal, much to his credit, didn’t look away.

She glanced toward Viktor who shook his head and held up a hand to stop her. She changed back, but her nails remained clawlike. Her shoulders relaxed a minute fraction of an inch. She reached out for her glass and took a sip of wine, then held out her hand. Her frown hadn’t gone away, though.

Malcolm brought her hand to his lips and gave her a slow kiss on her knuckles, not breaking eye contact. She let out a soft hiss but didn’t slap him.

Viktor let out a low growl. “Mal, don’t push it.”

Malcolm turned his head but didn’t let go of Mysta’s hand. “What? I’m an appreciator of beauty, and I’m not pushing anything or anyone.”

Mysta snorted and took back her hand. “Laying it on thick, aren’t we?” She sniffed the air. “You could use a new cologne. Eau de Brimstone isn’t attractive up close and personal.”

Viktor beamed. “That’s my girl.”

“Not your girl.” She rolled her eyes.

“We’re mates,” Viktor answered.

“Stop saying that. Anyway, what’s this about a board game?”

Mal answered her. “Drunken D&D on Halloween. Tradition began last year when we were bored, and I needed a friend.” Malcolm opened up his knapsack and took out the book, the dice, and the board. Mischief sparked in his eyes. “Although, now I’m beginning to wonder if there’s another way to play the game.”

Viktor’s stomach churned. “Uh, no. Your ideas could land us behind bars or worse. No.”

Mysta snorted. “And you say I’m bad?”

He coughed and muttered, “Drink your wine.”

“Someone’s got something to hide.” Her plush lips turned up into a smile. The gesture lit him up from the top of his head to his toes.

“How about this. We roll the dice and let fate decide what we do? Truth or Dare with dice rather than cards or a bottle?” Malcolm placed the bottle on the end of the counter and used the edge to pry open the top. Viktor winced. Thank the goddess Shevon wasn’t here. She’d flay him alive and make herself a hellhound jacket.

He turned his friend’s suggestion over in his mind. It had some merit but only if Mysta agreed to play along. He focused on her.

“What are the rules?” She shifted on her stool. He could taste her suspicion.

Malcolm scrubbed a hand over his face. “One, you have to roll, and depending on the number you get you have to either answer a question or do shots.” He pulled a bottle of cheap vodka out of his bag.

“Christ, do you want to kill me or get me so shit-faced I forget my name?” Viktor couldn’t imagine drinking beer and vodka together. Not in this lifetime anyway.

“Nope, the vodka was for me, but now I figure to put it to good use. The shots are punishment for not answering, and the alcohol is there to loosen you up.” He caressed the bottle with one hand.

“So, this is just a game? And we can bail anytime we want?” Caution filled Mysta’s tone.

Mal glanced over at Viktor, who gave him an inscrutable look, and then shrugged. “Yup. Things get too hot, love, you can pass or just leave, no consequences.”

“Afraid of being too revealing?” Viktor teased.

Mysta’s eyes hardened with determination. She grabbed the dice and stood up. “Fine. Where to, boys?”

If he hadn’t been in love with her already, Viktor would’ve fallen for her right now. In the past she wouldn’t have taken the risk.

“How about right here on the floor?” Malcolm nodded toward the area close to the front desk.

Her features distorted into disgust. “I’m sure the floor is clean, but I’m not going to sit down on it and have my ass fall asleep. How about the earth magic section? There’s a plush rug there. Much more comfortable.” She tossed a die up and down for a few seconds, then stopped and stared at Viktor.

Any trepidation had faded away. Viktor peeked over at Malcolm.

Mal shrugged. “Yeah, sure, wherever. But first, Vik, I need to talk to you.”

Malcolm didn’t let Viktor protest. He took his arm and led him away past the Earth magics section to the shifter section a few aisles down.

“What?” Viktor tried to wrench his arm free.

Mal’s steel grip held him fast. “Vik, you told me a lot about this woman. You need to relax. I can see how eager puppy you are. You’re all but panting after her,” Malcolm hissed.

Viktor cursed himself. “That obvious?”

Malcolm nodded.

Viktor swallowed down a lump of pain.

“Look, I get it. No need to explain. But I can see how much she means to you. I remember the stories, mate. All the times you came back to Arbor Town and we’d have a beer, and you’d tell me the deal with her. You have to keep your head. I can smell your lust. I can smell hers too, as well as her emotions. She’s hesitant, scared. Give her some breathing room, and you’ll be back in her good graces.”

“But I just… I want to know why she left me. Why without a word? We may have had a deal but—”

“Family issues? Threats? Anything could’ve happened. You don’t know it all, or do you?”

“No, my family knows not to touch her.” The words came out on a growl. If they had said anything to her… He couldn’t even finish the thought much less entertain it. Besides that, his people hadn’t cared about his relationship with Mysta. Her branch of the family succeeding had been all down to her.

“Maybe her people? Snake shifters don’t exactly like outsiders. Remind me about how you met.” Malcolm let go of Viktor’s arm.

“Persistence. I worked at a bookstore she would pass by back in Arbor town. She’d come in and I would talk to her, but she wouldn’t say anything until she broke down and told me to shut up.” He grinned.

Mal snorted. “Sounds about right. Thanks for telling me.”

“I told her I would if she’d allow me to take her to Oktoberfest.” He relaxed. “Beer led to kissing, kissing led to other things and dates. We even moved in together…”

“And you marked her?” The question was light, but there was something there. It weighed in, a yearning that tugged at Viktor’s emotions.

“Yes and no, I began the process but didn’t finish it.” Didn’t have time, he added in his mind.

“No good. Why do I smell others on her?” This time there was no emotion to the query.

“Every full moon she has to shed her skin and the old magic that clings to it, helps ground and renew her abilities. The process can be painful, so she needs to be distracted. Sex overloads her and allows her to channel her excess powers and dump them before they overwhelm her.” The old wounds were reopening as he explained it to Mal. “We’re two weeks away from the full moon.”

Malcolm snorted. “No excuse.”

“It was just fun. There was no commitment, no strings. And the rule I told you about.” The night she’d left was fuzzy. All he could remember was her standing at the door, tears streaming down her face.

“What did you say before she left?”

Malcolm’s words rubbed him the wrong way. He hated thinking it had been something he’d said that had driven her away. “I told her she was my mate and she was pulling away from me because of her family. She’s from a long line of failed familiars. To put it short, she’s their bread and butter.” Bile sloshed around in his stomach.

To cover his emotions, he took a breath. “Enough about me. You okay?” They may have had a scheduled meeting for their D&D game tonight, but Vik worried about Malcolm. Dark circles smudged the skin under his eyes, and his face looked wan and drawn. A hellhound who wasn’t getting enough rest could make them sloppy, and a reputation for shoddy work could cost them bounty hunter and tracking jobs.

“The buildup of too much magic and nowhere to dump it along with my lack of rest is mucking me up. So your Mysta isn’t the only one in need of distraction. I was hoping to get drunk off my ass and pass out.” He gave him a huge grin, showing his extended canines.

“Won’t help, you need to find a witch or wizard to help you channel the magic properly.” Viktor hated lecturing Malcolm, but he’d learned enough from Mysta to know Mal was playing with fire.

“I know, but what witch would want to have a black magic familiar? I don’t know any.” Mal began walking back the way they’d come.

“Why don’t I ask Mysta if she can help you?” It was a long shot, but Viktor would try.

“If she knows a sexy, curvy witch who can help me, then I’m all for it.” Mal sighed. “Thanks, man. I want someone I actually like.”

Viktor had never understood the mystical practices that went into pairing witches and wizards with their familiars, only it could involve families.

“Worse thing you could have is for a witch or wizard and familiar to hate each other or reject each other. Or one party rejects the other. So many permutations could happen. Think of it like the mate idea.” Mal pushed his hands in his pockets. “There’s one witch and one familiar who are meant to be. Some exceptions can be made if the witch is powerful enough and can connect with more than one element. Or triumvirates that involve two shifter species and one witch or wizard. I’m telling you all this to show you just how lucky Mysta is to have ended up paired up with someone like Bridget.”

Viktor let the words sink in. “So, it would be an honor to be a familiar to say, Bridget Roseway?”

“Honor is putting it mildly. She’s the ideal of all familiars. Treats familiars as equals, gives us our say, lets us have a slice of the pie, and from the pictures I’ve seen of her online she’s one sexy, curvaceous treat I wouldn’t say no to unwrapping. Rumor has it the local vampire liege has set his cap for her. Just my luck.” Mal kicked at nothing but kept going. “Anyway, to be paired up with someone like that is every familiar’s dream, and the work is pretty interesting. You have to stay on your game because it means more work for you. The Roseway family, damn, all of them, amazingly gifted but they don’t put on airs or anything, unlike some of the old families.”

Viktor shuddered at the memory of how some of the high-up magical families treated his family and other shifters in Arbor Town. “I’ve seen so many witches treat their familiars like they’re beneath them.”

Viktor wondered why Mal wasn’t paired with anyone. Was he too picky or too ornery? Mal could be a pain in the ass, but bad enough that no one would take him?

“Yeah, well.” Mal shrugged, then grinned. “Anyway, my ideal is similar to Bridget, curves in all the right places, thicker of course, soft brown eyes, and sweet, naughty smile.”

“This is not a girlfriend. You’re not dating her or fucking her,” Viktor pointed out.

“Says you. Sex and magic wouldn’t be a bad thing and for a familiar. Fifty percent of the time it’s what happens. You work so intimately, share pieces of yourself and exchange gifts, so unless you’re not open sexually it’s bound to happen. Anyway, let’s get back to Mysta before she starts to wonder if we got lost or attacked by Shevon’s mini terror she calls a guard dragon.” Mal chuckled.

“You think I’m lying about that guard dragon. One day my friend.” Viktor led Mal toward the Earth magics area. Their footsteps thudded on the exposed wooden floor.

Mysta was curled up on a chair reading when they reached the section. While they had been gone, Mysta had set up the dice. Mugs and the bottles of vodka, beer, and wine sat on a table in between two overstuffed armchairs.

Malcolm strode forward and made himself comfortable in a wingback chair near Mysta. She glanced up and dog-eared a page but didn’t say anything, although she did eye Malcolm with a mix of curiosity and hesitation.

“You boys ready, or do you need more coffee talk? Maybe I could run out to Starbucks and get some lattes and cookies? I’ll have to risk not hexing a few people but hey, if you need more time?”

“That’ll get you a spanking.” Viktor teased.

Mysta narrowed her eyes at him. “Try it.” Her eyes flashed gold, the irises going vertical for a moment. Then they faded back to brown. Her irises became circular once more.

“As much as I’d love to watch this little lovefest go on and on we’ve got a game to play.” Malcolm picked up a beer and took a sip, then put the bottle down again. “So the rules: If you roll a low number you have to answer one question or take a shot. If you roll a high number you have to take a dare from the other two players or take a shot. Clear?”

“Crystal. I’ll go first.” Mal picked up the dice, shook them in his hands and held them up to Mysta. “A kiss for good luck?”

Mysta rolled her eyes. “Not in a million years. Throw the dice.”

“Party pooper.” Mal rolled a six.

Mysta and Viktor took their turns. Mysta ended up with a two and Viktor a five. Viktor grinned.

Things were looking up.

“Just get over with it already.” Mysta took a sip of her wine.

“Okay, you asked for it.” He paused, drawing out the moment.

She gritted her teeth.

“Did you move to Evenfall for Bridget and work or to get away from me?” Not too damaging a question, right?

CHAPTER FIVE

Mysta tried not to glare at Viktor. Of course he’d start somewhere near the painful part. “I moved because Bridget wanted to set things up without delay. She’d found a space for our business, and she’d already found the housing for us to live in. Besides we had an agreement, no strings.”

“And?” Viktor raised a pale brow, a small smile on his lips. Expectation showed in his eyes.

“And I wanted to leave. I didn’t want to risk changing my mind.”

There.

“Not good enough. Do you think that was the truth?” Viktor turned to Malcolm who stroked his index finger and thumb over the scruff on his chin.

“Nope. I think she should take a shot.” Malcolm’s eyes narrowed.

“Asshole. It is the truth. What kind of demon are you?” She folded her arms over her chest, ignoring how her nipples tightened under Viktor’s scrutiny.

“He’s a hellhound familiar, and you’re holding back.” Viktor leaned forward bringing his sexy scent with him. The smell made her toes curl and her body heat up.

“I am telling you everything.”

Viktor poured out a healthy dose of vodka. “You’re so cute when you lie by omission. What aren’t you telling me?”

“And me.” Malcolm took a pull on his beer and watched them with interest gleaming in his eyes.

Damn him. “Okay, fine. You were part of the reason why I left so fast.”

She waited for the hurt to appear on his face.

A satisfied smile curved on his lips, and he leaned back, body slumped in his seat. He looked so sexy it hurt. Her hips bucked of their own accord. She swore and pushed herself back against the chair. Viktor’s grin grew until she could see the chip in his canine. The smile reminded her of the looks he threw at her after he made her come, after going down on her, or using his fingers.

To distract herself she reached out, grabbed the glass, and downed it. The buzz helped lessen some of her sexual tension, and the crisp, clear flavor cleansed her palette. Some of her stress faded. “My turn. Okay, I dare you to do the chicken dance.”

Humiliating and amusing at the same time, and she’d be the only one to know about it.

Viktor gave her a look. “That all?” He stood up and lifted the hem of his shirt, revealing the bottom row of his well-defined abs. A thick line of trimmed curls ran down the center drawing her attention to the fly of his jeans.

“Uh, what are you doing?” She was thankful she sounded coherent rather than slurring her words or stuttering.

“If I’m going to dance I want to be comfortable.” He pulled the top down his arms, revealing the ink work that formed a full sleeve right down to his wrist and his shoulder and chest, from what she could see.

Her brain short-circuited. Her gaze remained glued to him. Light blond hair dusted his torso, arrowing down to the ridges of his abdomen that vanished behind his waistband. A large Celtic knot tattoo worked up in green ink took up his entire left arm, shoulder, chest, and side. Images of trees, foxes, a crescent moon, and stars could be picked out, making the art seem more tapestry than a series of individual pictures.

“Holy shit!” The words left her mouth before she could stop herself.

“So you finally got that done, huh? Congrats.” Malcolm toasted him with his Guinness bottle.

The bastard had the audacity to turn around showing off his rounded muscular butt lovingly molded in denim. On his back, a blond fox with a white underbelly and a snake with similar coloring to Mysta were set in a forest under a full moon. It stole her breath away.

“Took a year to do it in between searching for you. Found a great tattoo artist in Star Wood Falls while I was temping on a construction crew. So, the chicken dance, huh? Let’s see if I remember the steps.” He moved.

It wasn’t fair. He made even the ridiculous dance look sexy and flirty and downright filthy with every move of his hips, the ripple of muscle under the skin, and the strength and conviction of each step. Once he was done she sat there stunned, her body heated. Her nipples had hardened, and her clit pulsed. Her clothing constricted her and irritated her skin. Her desire beat under her skin, too large to contain, seeping from her pores. She shifted in her seat.

“Mal?” Viktor beckoned to Malcolm.

“Jesus, really? Okay.” Malcolm rose and did a halfhearted performance. “Happy now?”

All she could do was nod. Her gaze remained fixed on Viktor’s ink and the way it writhed against golden skin. Viktor hadn’t put back on his shirt again, much to her annoyance. He didn’t look the least bit apologetic or discomfited. Goose bumps rose on his arms, and his nipples were tight buds.

“Next round.” Malcolm grabbed the dice and shook them. He rolled out a five. Next was Viktor with a nine and Mysta with a twelve.

“Heh, lay it on me.” Malcolm gave Mysta a pointed look.

She accepted the challenge.

“Are you someone’s familiar? Did someone actually let you off the leash for a night?” There. She’d said it.

“Ha! No witch or wizard to tie me down to…anymore. Anything else you want to know?” He bit out each last syllable of the challenge.

Viktor held up a hand. “Mal, calm down.”

Malcolm shrugged. His hand trembled as he brought the bottle to his lips, but he was able to take a pull without spilling a drop.

“Hhmmm, hellhound and a familiar to boot. I’ve read and seen what happens to familiars who aren’t bonded. No one should have that fate. Are you looking to be bonded?” She turned over the possibilities. Bridget had connections, and there were lots of witches and wizards who didn’t have familiars, although they might not want a familiar who used black magic. She wasn’t sure.

Malcolm lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Sure, if you want.” He placed his drink back down on the table.

She didn’t miss the hope that flared to life in his eyes. One of the reasons the relationship between familiar and witch and wizard was so crucial was because they balanced each other out. No wonder he was acting the way he was.

“Hey, give me your hand,” she ordered.

“What?” Malcolm’s dark brow winged up, and suspicion lit up his face.

“Just give it to me.” She normally didn’t enjoy being touched by someone if she barely knew him or if she didn’t know where he’d been, but for this moment if she could help, she would.

He extended his hand. She moved forward in her chair and accepted his extended hand. A ribbon of warm liquid flowed from the center of her chest, down her arm, and into him. His back bowed, and his eyes squeezed shut. He quaked but didn’t let go of her hand.

His magic shot through her, filling her body with his power. She tasted fire and earth, brimstone and smoke. Heat flooded her body, saturating her head to toe with a fever. Even her eyelids heated up. She grabbed on to the arm of her chair and sucked in air as pressure welled up inside of her. She poured magic into him until she felt he’d had enough, then eased the exchange, pulling back her energy. The flow stopped.

Malcolm sagged onto the chair and groaned. “Fuck, I think I need new pants.”

Mysta swallowed and looked away, dropping his hand and scooting back into her chair. Malcolm’s power sparked and billowed around her, slow to dissipate. She sensed everything around them, including the hope, desire, and confusion from Viktor. Her mental shields rose to block off the information, but they were sluggish.

“What was that?” Awe and annoyance filled Viktor’s tone.

“Sometimes familiars can help each other with their power dump by infusing them with a bit of their own magic. There’s an echo but not much.” She chose her next words with care. She didn’t want to give too much information away. “A power dump is a surge of unfiltered magic that either hasn’t been used or is in excess and has nowhere to go. I gave him a bit of my control to help the process along.” She met Viktor’s eyes. “But he’ll need to either take part in a ritual that will allow him to burn off the surplus or have sex, which will exhaust him enough to give him a respite.”

“Interesting.” Viktor didn’t look pacified, but he didn’t look jealous either. “So, should we continue or do you need some time?” He looked over at Malcolm.

“I’m good. Mysta?” Malcolm’s words had a slight slurred edge to them, but he didn’t look drunk.

Mysta took a sip of wine. Her hands gripped the glass without trembling, and when she placed it on the table she didn’t spill a drop. Her gaze focused on Viktor. “I’m fine.”

Viktor studied them both, his expression uncertain. Malcolm remained slumped in his seat, but he had a sleepy grin on his face. His energy seemed calmer, and his features were relaxed.

Reassured by Malcolm’s appearance, Mysta decided to continue the game. “Okay, Malcolm, what is your dare to us?”

“Easy.” Malcolm winked at Viktor. “To kiss.”

“Bastard,” Mysta hissed. Viktor’s emotions still seeped around her. Her mental shields weren’t even halfway up to block them. Malcolm’s magic still burned through her body, lighting small fires throughout her, amping up her desire. Her skin prickled. And she still tasted smoke on her tongue. Who knew what would happen?

“I can live with it.” Viktor moved so fast out of his chair she didn’t have enough time to react. He crouched down in front of her, cupped her face in his hands, and gazed into her eyes. “No running, honey.”

His humid breath fanned her face. She could smell the beer he’d had along with his cologne up close and personal. The heat of his body pounded against her. It seeped past her clothing to soak deep into her, merging with her until she was sure they were becoming one with only his hands on her. She couldn’t move, breathe, think, nothing. He had hypnotized her. Pale green eyes, tan skin, and pale gold hair filled her vision.

The kiss was soft, gentle, unhurried. All thought scattered as warmth suffused her face and seeped down all the way to her toes. The world faded away and there was only him.

The tip of his tongue played along the seam of her mouth. He slid his lips against hers in a slow glide. She opened her lips for him. His tongue dipped in, a tentative exploration. When she didn’t resist, he pressed farther, teasing her tongue and tickling the roof of her mouth. She giggled, and he groaned but didn’t break contact. His arousal seeped into her, feeding her desire. All confusion and anger had faded away from him.

Mysta lifted her hands and placed them over his. She returned his attentions, nibbling his lips, soothing the hurt with quick flicks, taking her cues from him. Need and hunger rose to the surface. She needed to taste him, touch him, feel him against her, in her. Her hands drifted down his neck and over his shoulders. She traced the contours of his chest. When she brushed his nipples, he moaned. She took it as encouragement and circled the peaks with her fingertips, teasing the nubs in slow circles.

She continued to torment his nipples with light pinches and rolls. When he whimpered she moved her hands down to study the planes, dips, and rises of his abdomen. She lowered her hands, pausing to dip into his belly button. She continued onward to his groin, cupped his ridge and gave it a squeeze.

He pulled back. “Slow down,” he murmured.

She whimpered at the loss of contact and moved forward, trying to get closer. He held her back gently, peppering her face with light brushes of his lips, then moved away until there was a foot of distance between them. “No, no. Stay where you are, honey. I need a moment.”

She gazed at him feeling shy and uncertain.

“You okay, honey?” A hint of suede roughened his soft, smooth voice.

She sighed and rested her hands on his thighs. “Yeah, Fox, I’m fine.”

“Good. I’m going go back to my seat.” He straightened up to his full height.

“No, stay.” The words came out without hesitation.

But Viktor pulled away and returned to his seat as though he hadn’t heard her.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just a voyeur.” Malcolm chuckled, reminding her they had an audience. A shit-eating grin lit up his face. “Damn, I should lose more often.”

Mysta lifted her hand and touched her lips. The flesh was feverish and tingled. She could taste the remnants of the Guinness and mint he’d had with just a hint of brimstone. Damn it. Viktor’s body heat continued to cling to her like a spider’s web.

Anger and confusion swirled in her gut. No, he wouldn’t ensnare her again.

CHAPTER SIX

Viktor’s body had turned into a furnace on full blast. He settled down in the armchair but couldn’t sit still. He moved around in the chair. When he settled down his leg jiggled up and down. Every inch of his skin crawled and prickled with heat. If he wasn’t careful he’d do a full strip right there.

He shut his eyes and called on the fox to lend him some of its calm and focus. The urge to pace or pull down his zipper and jerk off subsided to a dull buzz in his blood. More composed now, he picked up his beer bottle and tipped it toward Malcolm who returned the gesture.

“Next round.” Mysta grabbed the dice before either of them could and took her turn.

He chuckled. Determination glittered in her dark brown eyes, and her jaw clenched. A fire kindled in his gut. If she thought she’d win her way out of giving him the information through sheer resolve she was dead wrong.

She rolled the dice around in her hand, paused, took a sip of her wine, paused again. Drawing each action out. Finally, just as Viktor was about to order her to hurry up, she threw the dice. A four.

Viktor picked up the dice and rolled. Seven. Malcolm took his turn and ended up with a fifteen.

Viktor grinned at Mysta. “Well, now, you’re at my mercy.”

She snorted. “Just ask the damn question.”

Viktor continued to hold back.

She took a sip of her wine and returned the glass on the table, all while staring at him.

Malcolm settled deeper into his chair, watching them. “Come on. I didn’t take this long when I went.”

He continued to let the unasked swirl in the air. Heavy raindrops thudded on the skylight overhead, heralding the arrival of the storm.

“Vik—”

“Was it your parents who drove you away or me?”

“That’s what you think happened? You think I would just let my parents push me away from you?” She rolled her eyes. “Yes, you and I had been fighting about my obligations and my family but come on? You’d think it would push me to the point where I’d leave because of them?”

Viktor shrugged. “What was I supposed to think?”

“I left because if I didn’t go I wouldn’t be able to.” Her features were a mask.

“And?” Viktor pressed.

Her jaw worked back and forth, and her eyes flashed. Anger and frustration filled her face.

For the first time the fox surged forward, tired of its mate’s games. “My fox believes you’re scared, not of me, but of the emotions I elicited, of the feelings I gave you. I made you choose between duty, honor, and love. Is it right?”

“You asked your question, now roll.” She snapped at him.

“I haven’t issued a dare yet,” Malcolm interjected. Energy crackled from him. “And I dare you”—he pointed at Mysta—“to kiss Vik, and mean it.”

“What game are you playing?” Mysta demanded.

“Not a game.” Malcolm shook his head. “If you truly don’t love him kiss him and show us.”

“I already kissed him.”

“So what harm could another one do, hmm?” His lips quirked into a smile. “Maybe you need a little persuasion. Power works both ways.”

“Don’t you dare,” she growled.

“What are you afraid of?” Viktor had to ask. “Afraid old feelings will resurface?”

“No, but as I’ve said I already kissed you.” She pressed her lips together.

“I’ve never known you to be chicken.” He hoped he hadn’t pushed her too far.

“Fine.” She rose from her chair and pressed her lips against his.

Intense arousal, the likes of which he’d never experienced, poured into him. His cock pressed against the denim of his jeans. His heart raced, and his skin tingled. An orgasm was building. The pressure increased with each millisecond, but he didn’t come. All his other senses sharpened. He could taste the spice of her desire and fiery tang of Malcolm’s need, smell the beat of her and Malcolm’s hearts, heard her soft gasps and Mal’s groans when Viktor’s passion enveloped them both, feel the need pulsating in the atmosphere around them—his, Malcolm’s, and hers—and could see with his mind’s eye all of their yearnings tied together by threads of mutual want.

His eyes fluttered open. Driven by the need, he took her face in his hands and kissed her. She stiffened, but by degrees she relaxed in his hold. This was not the gentle touch of before. It was a craving, driving necessity and blinding wish. Their teeth clashed, their lips ached. Their tongues dueled for dominance. But it wasn’t enough. He needed full contact.

She pulled back, eyes wide, staring at him in awe. “After all this time?” Mysta shook her head, hesitation written on her face.

Her magic slithered up his arm. He glanced down, expecting to see a snake moving over his skin. Nothing.

A whimper of confusion and need came from her. “Viktor? What’s happening?”

“I don’t know, but I need to kiss you again.” And so much more.

He wrapped his arms around her pulling her down onto the floor.

Her pupils were blown wide. Her skin felt feverish to the touch. He sensed her breathing and heartbeat quicken. “Goddess, what is this? This is like Lunar Lust on crack. I’m on fire and yet, I’m scared. What the fuck is going on?”

Just the smell increased his desire tenfold. “Lunar Lust, yours, sugar.” Viktor brushed his fingers over her cheek.

“Oh goddess.” She pressed herself against him.

His erection bumped against her hip, and arousal burst in his groin. He couldn’t stop touching her face, neck, chest, all over until finally he paused at her waist. He ground his erection against her. Unable to resist, he kissed her again. His grunts and moans disappeared in her mouth. The kiss increased the fever spiking through his veins.

She rocked against him. Her hands moved over his back, his hips, his sides. Her shirt scratched his bare skin. Her nails dug into his flesh setting off a burst of pain. The perfume of her musk grew denser. She shoved her fingers through his hair, grabbing handfuls and gripping his head. Breaking the kiss, she blazed a path over his face and along his jaw with her mouth.

He pulled her on top of him. All air left his lungs as her weight settled on him.

She straddled his hips. Her hands ghosted over his chest and shoulders and down his arms. Reverence filled her eyes. She guided his hands up to her breasts.

He cupped and squeezed the pert globes, pinching her nipples through the thin barrier of her top. She moaned and planted a series of soft kisses at the place where his neck and shoulder met.

“Viktor, please, help me,” she groaned.

His cock throbbed. Need sizzled along his limbs. He tightened his grip on her nipples, and she cried out. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement but ignored it. All his focus was on Mysta. He released her nipples and tugged up her sweater to expose her bra and found the clasp. A few movements had it open.

He yelped when her teeth sunk into his skin. Not enough to mark him, but he knew it would bruise for a few hours.

She released him long enough for him to reverse their situation. Gripping her hips tight, he rolled her until she was below him. Her legs parted to make room for him. Her hair fanned out, forming a dark brown nimbus around her head. Her eyes reflected the desire that burned inside of him. All the air escaped his lungs. After she’d left, he hadn’t thought he’d be able to witness this sight again. His heart stuttered. All he could do was stare at her bruised, red lips, the flush in her face, and the way her breasts pressed against his chest as she breathed in and out. Her hips tilted upward to meet his. She rolled her pelvis against the ridge of his jeans, and sparks skittered down his shaft to buzz around his balls.

He groaned and lowered his head, pressing kisses everywhere he could reach, taking his time. They had all night. She tugged up her sweater and removed it. He continued on across her chest, between the valley of her cleavage and over her stomach to tease the edge of her jeans with his tongue. Making his way back up her body. His arms planted at her sides, he held himself above her, not quite touching her, and lowered his head, using his tongue to circle her breast. Around and around he went with butterfly-light touches. Mysta wrapped her fingers around his hair and tried to urge him closer. He held back.

“Do you want this Mys, me? This moment? We stop if you say so.” He had to know she wanted this, that she would be with him.

Her body stilled, and she studied him. “What about Malcolm?” She nodded toward Malcolm. “I can taste his need, his magic, the overwhelming power of it, so much of it. He…”

Viktor lifted his gaze and sought out his friend who sat in his chair, one hand working the bulge in his jeans. Despite both of them looking at him, Malcolm didn’t stop his actions.

“Do you want him with you? With us?” As much as he wanted Mysta all to himself this bit of Lunar Lust seemed bigger, more than what he’d ever experienced before.

“I…” She swallowed, glanced over at Malcolm.

“You don’t have to…” Viktor started. Neither man would push if she didn’t want Mal with them, but Viktor did worry about Mal given just how much of his lust Viktor could taste in the air and feel thrumming in his veins.

“No, he’s in pain. He needs…us,” she whispered. “But this is the only time for both of you.”

“Like old times, a bit of bondage, yes?” Viktor had to be sure of what she wanted.

“Yes.” She whimpered. “Do something.”

“Mal, take her hands and hold them over her head.”

Malcolm moved forward, pulled her hands away from Viktor’s head, and drew her arms over her head.

She hissed at Malcolm, but he only chuckled. “Boss’s orders.”

Viktor refocused on Mysta. He returned to her breast, leaving love bites all over her flesh. She growled when he blew on the tightened peak but didn’t struggle. As a reward for not trying to curse Malcolm Viktor flicked, tapped, and circled her nipple slowly, watching her through slitted eyes as she writhed and moaned. He kissed his way over to the other nipple and repeated his actions.

“Like that? Want more or maybe less?”

“Viktor, damn it, suck my tits,” she gritted out through clenched teeth.

He lifted his head and gazed into her eyes. She needed to say it, give permission, and he needed to hear it to reassure him that this wasn’t some crazy daydream. “Say please.”

He was amused to see outrage blaze in her eyes. It took a second for her features to relax. “Please,” she asked. Her tone was sweet and light, but the devil played in her eyes.

He chuckled. “As you wish, sweetheart.” He lowered his head, took her nipple between his teeth, and tugged on it gently. He sucked it into his mouth, flicking the tender bud with his tongue. He spent a few seconds on it, drawing out his attentions, then moved to the other peak. She rewarded him with inarticulate words and moans.

“Viktor, too much. Stop.” She wriggled away from his touch.

“Sorry.” Viktor trailed his touch down her stomach until he reached her belly button. He dipped his tongue into the well, swirling it around. Her hips bucked and rocked, but he didn’t let her make contact with his body. When she stopped struggling, and her pelvis was once more planted on the floor. He continued his journey, covering her torso in kisses, tracing up one curve of her side and down the other. He didn’t go in a specific order, nor did he have a plan. He just went with instinct savoring the sensation of being able to worship his goddess once more.

Malcolm murmured, “You are gorgeous, my goddess made flesh. I love your curves, every inch of you.” In between each praise he kissed up and down Mysta’s arms and over her face.

Mysta snarled, threatened, and begged, but neither man paid any attention to her words. Malcolm transferred his hold to one hand and used his other to massage her scalp. The small impulse only egged Viktor on. The fire within became a conflagration that enveloped his entire body.

With fast work he pulled off her boots and socks, then undid her belt buckle and her fly. He yanked her jeans off.

He traveled up her body, kissing, licking, and touching everything he could reach until her legs shook and her hips moved up and down. Her chest quivered, and she struggled against Malcolm, but he didn’t move or loosen his grip. Viktor was pleased his friend could take orders.

He moved back down her body. When he reached her mound, he paused and gazed up at her body until he could see both of them. “Malcolm, if it’s okay with Mysta, you can kiss her body but not her lips or her sex, understand?”

Malcolm grinned and nodded.

“I…” Mysta let out an impatient growl. “Just… Just…my body. Got it hellhound? Not my pussy or my lips, nothing else.” Her words came out strangled and breathy.

“Got it.” Malcolm planted kisses on her forehead and temple.

“Good, now eat my pussy, Viktor, or I’ll finish myself off.” Her heated black gaze pinned him in place. She strained against Malcolm’s hold.

He shook his head. “I’m in control here, sweetheart. If I say you get to have your pussy licked or eaten it will be done, but you give me control.” He waited for the protests.

Her unblinking gaze didn’t leave his face. If he weren’t used to it, it would have been unnerving.

“Fine, fine. Next time I get to be in control.” A dark brown eyebrow arched and amusement quirked her lips.

A wide grin spread across his mouth before he could stop himself. His heart swelled with happiness. She remembered. Maybe she didn’t realize that she’d uttered the words she always used after he’d been in charge.

“Yes.” He let out the single word on a huff of air.

“Good. Now make me come.” She lay her head down on the rug.

Viktor didn’t move.

Malcolm didn’t wait. He removed his shirt and leaned over her head so his mouth was positioned over her breasts. “I’m going to let go of your wrists, honey. I want to get a taste of your breasts. Just keep them over your head.”

Viktor let the sensation guide him in his actions. He lowered himself down until he could lie on his stomach between her legs. There was just enough space for him, but her boots and the fabric of her jeans dug into his skin. Viktor ignored them as he lapped and nibbled up one inner thigh and down the other and across her mound, pressing his lips to her overheated flesh. She was feverish and only getting hotter. He blew on her thickened nether lips. She moaned and bucked her hips forward as far as she could go. Viktor lifted his gaze and watched her while he took one slow lick. She whimpered and rocked her sex against his mouth but to no avail.

He repeated his actions on the other fold. With each lap he could taste the tang, the sweetness and saltiness of her juices. He parted her folds, exposing her clit. He blew on the thick nub. She groaned and squirmed. Malcolm held her still while he kissed the side of her breast. He whispered praises on her. “You’re so beautiful, Mys. So exquisite.”

“Please,” she moaned. She writhed as best she could.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” Viktor flicked the clit. He licked his way up from her dripping entrance back up to her distended button. His cock throbbed and sweat misted his forehead. Her body heat pressed against him, and his own need swirled within him. He ignored the throbbing of his cock and pulsing of his balls and continued to tease her, lapping at her pussy with slow flicks and licks. He ignored her clit and circled her entrance, refusing to give her the touch she needed the most.

“Viktor.” She wriggled under him. Her jeans scratched against his belly and legs, and the tips of her shoes dug into his sides. He brushed his discomfort aside and focused on her.

Malcolm’s teeth worried first one nipple and then the other. She gasped. Her body shook beneath him.

“Damn it, please,” she pleaded.

Viktor flicked her clit, tapping the head of the bundle of nerves. He returned to licking her pussy. When she tried to ride his tongue he stopped, grabbed her hips, and held her still.

“I’m in control. Stop. Moving.” Viktor wasn’t sure how much more he could deny himself the paradise of sinking into her wet, hot channel and making her orgasm.

She groaned. “Let me come.”

Malcolm bit her nipple hard and held on. Tears leaked down her cheek. Viktor wanted to kick himself. He should’ve asked for a safe word. He waited for her to say something to stop Malcolm.

Malcolm released the tender nub and lapped at it. Her body trembled, but she didn’t make any major movements. Viktor waited until she’d calmed down and stilled before he continued. To change things up he slipped one finger into her pussy, finding her soft, open, wet, and ready for his cock. He took his fingers out, then pushed them in farther, all the while circling and flicking her clit.

Viktor watched Malcolm lap and bite her other nipple as well. By the time she left the library she would be sore but happy; Malcolm would make sure of it. The more Viktor gave to her the less he cared whether he came or not. The buzz circling his body was an annoying gnat but not a pressing issue, and the ache in his balls, though irritating, wasn’t his biggest concern. He wanted her to have one of the best orgasms of her life. A glance at Malcolm showed he was on the same page.

“Good, Mysta. You look beautiful,” Malcolm murmured. “You’re gorgeous and doing fine.”

Viktor released her clit. “You are so beautiful, sweetheart, and strong and intelligent. I’ve missed you so much, baby.” Every word came straight from the heart. In between words, he tapped her clit. “I’m going to fuck you now, and I want you to let go and come, okay?”

“Viktor, please, fuck me.” Emotion showed in her eyes: sadness, frustration, fear, hope, and a myriad of other sensations that tugged at his heart and moved him beyond words.

He needed to show her in any way he could.

He kissed his way down her leg until he reached the area where her jeans had gotten caught on the tops of her boots and removed her shoes. Next to go were her pants. Once he had her naked, he stripped and climbed on top of her as quickly as possible. He licked his lips. The remnants of her juices were still there: salty, sweet, earthy with a hint of something he could never identify. With a groan he kissed her and covered her body with his.

Her arms came down, and she threaded her fingers in his hair as he wrapped a leg around her waist and rubbed his cock against her wet slit. The drag of her damp flesh against his highly sensitive penis caused a wave to crest inside of him, ready to break. She broke the kiss and pinched his nipple. The pain zipped straight to his groin allowing some of the need to fade away, but it lingered still.

A tap on his shoulder got his attention. Malcolm handed him a silver foil packet. “You were gonna forget.” Malcolm was already sheathed.

An idea struck Viktor, a way to pay Mal back for everything he’d done for them in this time. “How would you feel about helping Mal out? Just your hand, nothing else.” Malcolm may need some help, but he’d get nothing else. Mysta belonged to him.

Malcolm chuckled. “I’m already prepared.” He held up a small bottle of lube.

For a moment Viktor could only stare.

“Boy scout?” A small smile played on Mysta’s lips.

“If hell had a troop I’d have been leader or whatever. I just keep lube around ’cause you never know when a door hinge gets squeaky or bed springs get too loud.” He squirted out some lube.

Despite Mysta’s sex already being soaked, Viktor wanted to make this as easy as possible. “Can I use some?”

Malcolm tossed him the container. He caught it and squeezed some of the unguent out onto his palm and pitched the container back. Malcolm grabbed it and flung it on a chair, then moved closer to Mysta.

They both stared at her.

“What?” She blinked at Viktor, confusion on her face.

“Will you help out Malcolm?” Viktor held back a chuckle.

“I… What? Uh…” She glanced over at Malcolm.

Pain was etched on Mal’s face. He continued to stroke his shaft. Beads of sweat bathed his face. His lips were pressed tight. Longing filled his eyes. “I-I don’t wanna come alone,” he muttered.

“Okay, this once.” She took hold of his cock and stroked it slowly. Malcolm groaned. His hips flexed back and forth.

Now that Malcolm was taken care of, Viktor focused back on Mysta. “Yes, my beautiful one, I will fuck you now.”

He reached down and positioned himself at her entrance. The flared head of his cock slipped in. He withdrew, then began thrusting forward and pulling out over and over again, giving her a chance to get used to his girth.

“Oh goddess, so much better than my vibrator. I’ve missed you so much.” Her vaginal walls rippled round him, gripping him tight. He groaned as pleasure zinged up his spine.

Viktor withdrew and slammed home. Mysta met each thrust with one of her own. He lowered his head and nibbled and tugged on her lips as he fucked her, slow and steady, stilling just long enough for her to calm down before he drilled her again, hard and fast. He pulled his head away slightly to watch the emotions play across her face.

“Play with your clit, sweetheart,” he ordered. He wanted her to come as hard as she could, to get as much pleasure as possible.

He waited for her to comply. Her free hand moved against his groin. He pulled out and eased in again, peppering her neck with kisses. The tide rose once more as energy and magic zipped along his arms, over his back, and up her legs and ruffled through his hair. A fourth presence—the combination of all of their magics—appeared something bigger and familiar with them, driving them on. The energy from the being gripped his hips and guided them, pushing them faster, deeper.

“Please! So close.” Her body shook beneath him. He could feel her tighten. He eased his pace and pulled out, holding both of them on the precipice, waiting for her to come down.

“For fuck’s sake, damn you! Fuck me,” she growled. Her eyes flashed with fire and scales of copper, cream, dark brown, and bronze rippled over her sweat-misted skin.

His fox rose up, and the shift took hold. Blond and white fur slipped over his arms. The scent of fox musk, sunshine, and earth filled the air to mix with spicy perfume. His jaw ached as his teeth reformed into sharpened points. The urge to bite and mark took hold. He dipped his head and gave into the impulse. His teeth punctured her delicate flesh, and blood flooded his mouth. His tongue lapped at the wounds as his hips pushed forward. He went faster, deeper, fucked her harder as the tide rose up inside of him. Electricity circled his balls, slipped down his legs, up his spine, and around his head until he couldn’t hold the pressure anymore and came. Her vaginal walls tightened around him, pulsing as they milked him of his seed. Bliss rushed over him and white noise filled his ears, but he didn’t release her shoulder until the energy left him, and he needed to move, or he would end up crushing her. With one last lap, he let go.

The shift receded until he was a human again. On shaky limbs he moved to the side of her and curled up next to her on the rug.

Viktor reached out to caress Mysta. His hand ghosted over her chest, the tips of her breasts, over her stomach, and down one hip. He didn’t stop touching her until her muscles relaxed and her breathing had calmed. Mysta turned her head to stare at him.

Malcolm was panting, moisture covered his body, and his skin was flushed as he lay on his side. “Thank you,” he murmured.

For a second Viktor didn’t understand why he was being thanked. “What?”

“For including me.”

“Welcome,” Mysta grunted.

“I know.” Mal bowed his head.

They lay there for a while, Malcolm settled against a chair, his chest moving up and down, and Mysta lying supine next to him. All Viktor could think of was getting Mysta alone and doing this all over again. He looked forward to letting her have control, seeing what her creative mind could come up with. For now he reached out and grabbed her hand, holding it and wishing there was no way he could let her go. When Malcolm moved around, he didn’t even glance over. All he cared about in the world was keeping Mysta by his side for a little bit longer.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Malcolm rose, pulled on his jeans and shirt, and grabbed the bottle of Guinness. “Well, that was fun. We must do it again some time. Thank you for allowing me to take part. Mysta, darling, I’ll be in touch.” He turned and disappeared down an aisle.

Mysta lay on the floor, sucking air in and out as her heartbeat tried to slow. Her shoulder ached where Viktor had bitten her again. Her nipples were sore from Malcolm’s teeth. Her pussy continued to pulse as the last of her arousal abated. The remnants of Malcolm’s and Viktor’s Lunar Lusts throbbed through her body.

Her blood cooled, and her body followed suit. Her inner snake hissed, fully satisfied. She could feel her scales ripple along her flesh as the animal made a reappearance. Snake shifters changed when the need to defend was necessary or during intense emotional situations, sex included. It was letting her know it was there and satiated.

With a sigh she glanced over at Viktor. He sat against the chair, staring at her. Only a strip of green eye showed between his heavy eyelids.

Being with him again reminded her of why he was so damn dangerous to her. He made her careless, reckless. She didn’t think, couldn’t. Everything became about him. Was this what it meant to be mates? An icy finger of fear traced down her spine.

Viktor brushed a strand of hair off of her forehead. “Hey. What are you thinking?”

“I enjoyed this. Don’t think I didn’t. I just want to say I take my responsibilities as a familiar very seriously.”

Viktor sat up. “I know, Mysta.”

“It bothers me that you thought my family forced me into anything. You didn’t ask me. You assumed without any true knowledge.”

Viktor opened his mouth, but she didn’t give him a chance to rebuke her. “You never listened to me when I tried to explain. You heard what you wanted to hear. And familiars don’t have mates. How many times do I have to tell you that?” She wanted to gain some space to go over what had just happened between them.

Viktor sighed and moved closer to her with only a thin space between them. “I believe it no matter what you say. Okay, fine, maybe, maybe, I had my ideas about your family. Maybe, now you can explain it to me. Your family isn’t here, and there’s no need to worry about becoming a familiar anymore. You can explain it to me. Now that I have you and you’ve given me this beautiful gift again I won’t give up on you.” He traced a finger over the curve of her cheek and down her neck.

Stubborn man.

“But will you listen?” She ran her hand through her hair. “If you want anything to happen with us, here, now, you need to be open but so do I…”

He gazed down at her with such love and devotion it stole her breath away. Old fears rose up. Her heartbeat picked up, and her head swam. She couldn’t breathe past the growing lump of emotion in her throat. The world closed around her. She placed her hands on his chest and pushed. He wouldn’t budge.

“I’m not going anywhere, Mys. I love you, honey, and I’m willing to do anything to make this work, to show you.” Adoration darkened his green eyes. Amber glinted in their depths. His fox was present.

“Vik—” She pushed again. It was like pushing against a boulder.

“Do you hear me? I won’t leave you, and I won’t let you get away from me again.”

“I hear you. Now can you please move? Please. I need…” His closeness was eroding her willpower.

At first he did nothing. Then he slipped over her and onto his side leaving a foot of empty space between them. She was torn all over again. History seemed to be repeating itself.

“Why are you so scared of me, honey?” There was a tenderness in his tone. Just the sound of it tugged at the tatters of her heart.

The weight of his gaze pressed against her like a thick sweater, one she couldn’t just strip off. For a moment she didn’t think she could answer. How to explain to him? “Because my siblings need me to honor my position. Through me they can rise to prestige and receive the attention our branch of the family hasn’t had for decades. I can’t afford to look bad even if I’m paired up with Bridget. Not when my sister Karoline is going through the process right now, and my younger brother Evan may have two possible matches. My parents don’t have to worry about bills anymore. Money is coming. They can even fix up the house. It’s a lot of responsibility, but I accept it.”

“So you’re scared I’ll distract you from your duty to Bridget?” His tone was careful and curious.

“It’s already affecting me,” she confessed. “And I don’t need distractions right now. I’m dealing with a lot. I have my friend Sera’s half-sister Vivi, staying with me. Don’t tell anyone I said that.” She sighed. “I just… No commotions. I already have more than I need right now.”

“So I was distracting you from your studies back then?” Again a careful tenor.

“Yes and no. To a point I could focus, but I began to want to spend more and more time with you. I needed to study, to learn my craft and my abilities, to strengthen my power.” The past rose up like a dust cloud consuming her. She remembered all the nights she stayed up talking to her mother while Viktor worked at his second job as a warehouse security guard. “My parents did have their doubts about us.”

He made a disgusted sound.

She ignored it. “I didn’t think we had a future, and I still don’t.”

“Why?” He was on his feet in a flash, anger written in every angle of his face. “Why do you have such little faith in me? In us?”

He began to pace.

She sat up, pulled her legs to her chest, and rested her chin on her knees, debating how to proceed with this next confession. It was clear he wasn’t grasping the picture she was painting for him. When he’d decided they would be together nothing stopped him and nothing dissuaded him, not the differences in species or her magical abilities. He didn’t understand the responsibility she was under since he wasn’t a familiar himself, nor did he come from a family of them.

He stopped pacing and lowered himself until he was crouched before her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Mys, I’m lost, honey.”

“I know.” She met his gaze head-on. No masks or shields, hoping he could see what she was trying to say without her having to utter the words.

The loud, shrill sound of a phone ringing from the back office interrupted the moment.

Viktor’s head jerked around. Panic filled his features. A second ring sounded, and he exhaled. “Whew, just the phone. Shevon doesn’t have an answering machine anymore. Stay here. I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere, promise me?” He rose and went over to his pile of clothing. With easy movement he pulled on his jeans, socks and shoes—but not his shirt—and left her to go take care of whatever it was.

The peridot ring surfaced in her mind once more and the urge to flee assailed her.

She grabbed her clothes and got dressed as fast as she could, nearly falling a few times as she pulled on her jeans and her boots. Her preternatural hearing caught the murmured tones of Viktor’s voice drifting toward her through the hushed atmosphere. It sounded like he was arguing with someone.

When she finished dressing, she checked her watch. Viktor had been gone for fifteen minutes.

She glanced around the Earth section. The area was a mess of discarded glasses, bottles of wine, vodka, and Guinness in various stages of emptiness, and scattered pillows. The part of her that hated a mess reared its ugly head. As fast as she could she cleared up all the trash, then rushed to her table in the back and grabbed her research materials, writing implements, and notebooks. She didn’t want anyone, especially Shevon, to guess what had happened.

Twenty-five minutes had passed, and Viktor was still on the phone. She risked writing out a quick note to Shevon about the books she borrowed. He still hadn’t gotten off the phone.

She left through a side exit door to avoid any meeting with Shevon or any other library attendants. Viktor was still engaged on that call even though he’d been talking for twenty-nine minutes. She felt like a bandit who’d gotten away scot-free.

The light of dawn hit her as soon as she stepped outside. She sniffed the air. Her snake’s preternatural senses told her it was almost four in the morning. The sun wasn’t quite high enough in the sky. She rounded the corner and started speed walking, not wanting to have a confrontation should Viktor get off the phone and realize she’d pulled a runner. Plus, she wanted to make it home in time to grab at least two hours of sleep.

“Mornin’,” Malcolm called out.

Shit. Mysta whirled around to find Malcolm leaning against the brick edifice of the library. He was eating an apple and looked so at ease one would never guess he had a buildup of magic inside of him or much to her annoyance that he’d just had sex. Fresh as a daisy, making her feel grubby.

“Morning.” She started to walk again, hoping he’d get the hint and not interact with her.

He fell into step with her, keeping up with her quick gait. “Don’t be like that. You and I are friends now, right? We’ve just had sex…”

She glanced all around praying no one had heard him. “Shut up,” she hissed.

“So, running away are we? You know Viktor really believes that mate crap.”

“You don’t believe in mates?” She gave him a sideways peek.

“Nope. Hellhounds work too damn hard to settle down. Look, there’s something I wanted to ask you. It’s a bit awkward as we’ve just met, but got an extra bed I could crash in until this whole familiar business is settled? Can’t sleep at Vik’s. Too quiet.” The crunch of the apple, his footsteps, the ping and clang of glass bottles and cans being thrown out, the light tread of the cleaning crew’s feet and the crinkle of wrappers, and the thud of refuse hitting the inside of the garbage truck were the only noises she heard. Cleaning crews moved around, picking up the debris and toilet paper strewn on front lawns and trees. A wide trail of ooze coated the cobblestone streets, and the distinct smell of sulfur clung to the magic and sweetness in the crisp morning air. It looked as if those teenagers had discarded their failed defense slug and it had grown and was loose somewhere in the town. She didn’t bother to tell the men and women scrubbing up the filth. They’d find out soon enough. She just hoped they had enough salt.

They passed The Java Demon. The lights were on and there was movement in front of the windows but no flashy cars from either Carver or Thorn parked out in front.

“So you want to sleep at my place? I’m telling you now, I have a guest. I will skin you alive if you do anything to her.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior, promise. ’Sides, I’m not looking for anyone. You helped me out, not only with the power exchange but also with the sex. You know, I understand why you keep leaving. Not just this time, after the sex, but yeah, I get it.” Malcolm pressed on before she could get in a word. “I don’t believe in mates either, but then again I’m a hellhound. Seen a lot of the shitty things people do to each other. Take me for example. Think I ended up a familiar cause I was born this way?”

He paused to take a bite of his apple and chew.

Mysta turned over the question in her brain, accessing all of the knowledge she’s learned through time and study. “Cursed?”

“Yup. Some witch thought I needed a lesson, so, here I am, hellhound turned familiar, and now I need to find a witch or wizard I’m compatible with. Vik’s been great. Don’t ask about the witch. I doubt you’ll be able to find out who did this to me even with a bit of fancy magic work. A bit of honesty here. I was the one that told him you were here. I owed him one for that Halloween last year, and I knew how much he wanted to find you. Don’t hold it against him or me, please.”

She digested the news. “He would’ve found me regardless of whether you helped him or not. He’s that stubborn. This won’t stop me from letting you stay at my place or helping you.”

“Thanks, I really appreciate it, especially after…”

He had to stop talking. Mysta didn’t pause to think about what she was doing. She paused, grabbed his hand, and this time propelled her energy to cascade over him like a fall of air from a large draft in a window. Her magic sought out all the cracks, dents, and scratches in the spell that had been put on Malcolm. Nothing. It was perfectly sealed and no signature to tell her who had done this to him.

“Wow. You were right. I have no clue who did this to you. Do you know who did this to you?” She wondered if Bridget had heard something about this. A spell or ritual similar to this would’ve caused major ripples in the magical community, and witches would be scared of this person.

“I know who it is all right. Vik doesn’t know this is a curse. If I could exact my revenge I would, but I don’t know if my ideas would work, so in the meantime I’ll find a witch or wizard to bind myself to.” Malcolm shrugged and pulled his hand away. “Don’t think I don’t know why you did that. Distract me, and I’ll stop mentioning the sex. No need to be ashamed, love. It happens. Sometimes with more than one person.” He gave her a wink.

“Do you understand once this starts it can’t be stopped or broken? You’re a familiar now. You may not have been born one of us but now you are. You can’t just switch it on and off like a light. And I wasn’t trying to stop you from talking.” Mysta knew she was laying it on a bit thick, but he had to understand, and if he couldn’t, there was no way she—or Bridget—could help him. She also knew she was lying. This was a small town and word traveled fast. Within hours everyone could know.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. I’m stuck like this. I actually like having some magic to use, and it works well with my hell-given abilities.” He grinned. “Okay, okay, I’ll shut up.”

She doubted it but didn’t press him on.

She broke the connection between them. The energy rebounded, hitting her in the chest. The spot where her magic landed stung. She reached up and rubbed it, not caring who saw. Witches and their familiars acted weird all the time and in public no less. This wouldn’t be any different.

“So what do you want in a witch or wizard?” Sometimes, in magic, if you were specific in your desires you could get what you wanted, and other times the goddess had a sense of humor.

“Curvy, like your Bridget, only with a bit more meat on her bones, nice dark eyes you could fall into, sexy voice, dark hair. I prefer brunettes and naughty, wicked—”

She cut him off. “I was asking what you wanted in a witch, not your perfect one-night stand.” She grumbled about horny dogs under her breath.

“I was just describing my ideal witch slash person that I’m going to be stuck with forever. If I’m going to be tied down might as well do it with someone I can fuck and I’m attracted to.” Malcolm kicked a pebble.

Mysta rolled her eyes. “Hellhounds. Okay, I’m sure Bridget knows some witches who will meet your description, but you know it has to work both ways. She has to be pulled toward you.”

“Yeah, I do. Like I said, I know how it works.” He threw the apple core into a trash can. They walked past several small cafés and corner stores, passing party revelers who hadn’t gone to bed yet, then took a right and headed west of Main Street. Pastel-and-white-colored Victorian mini mansions, St. Anne, and Tudor houses decorated for Halloween, lined both sides of the street. Toilet paper waved at them from bushes, lawns, and trees. Birds chirped from the branches overhead. Their footsteps echoed back at them. She led the way, taking another turn down a dead end street where the forests rose up and log cabin houses could be seen in the distance.

“Cozy,” Malcolm called out from behind her.

“Private,” Mysta retorted. In the distance she could see the four brownstone houses that Bridget owned.

“Good defensive place. Nowhere your enemies can really hide. You can see them coming and have the advantage of time to prepare. I approve.”

“Bridget doesn’t have enemies.” Mysta gritted out the answer.

“So you said, but, I can appreciate the location.”

She didn’t respond. Once they were a few yards away she glanced over the brownstones she, Sera, Lana, and Bridget lived in. Wide swathes of lawn surrounded each one. The windows were dark, and nothing was moving except for the early-morning animals and insects. She unlocked the door and headed in.

Vivi sat at the breakfast counter with a mug of coffee in one hand, a plate of toast in front of her, and a newspaper in the other. A carryon bag leaned against the stool. As Mysta walked in, Vivi put down her reading material to stare behind Mysta.

“Vivi, this is—”

Malcolm brushed past Mysta, much to her annoyance. “Hey, Vivi, I’m Malcolm. Don’t worry, Mysta only told me your name. I’m crashing here for a while.” Malcolm grinned and held out his hand.

Her eyes were wide. She returned his handshake with hesitation. “Hi, Malcolm,” she whispered in a rough, husky voice. “I made coffee.”

Malcolm bowed over her hand and kissed her knuckles. Mysta rolled her eyes. “Lay off, Romeo. Your room is third door on the left. You have your own bathroom.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you around, Vivi.” Malcolm left the room, heading upstairs before either of them could stop him.

Tension Mysta hadn’t realized was there slid out of her. She exhaled and leaned a hip against the counter. “Thanks for making coffee. Viv, you’re not eating just that. I may not cook a lot, but I can whip up omelets for the both of us. Hellhound can get his own.” She grinned.

Vivi shook her head. “Nope, it’s all I can get down. Mom stopped by while you were out.” She pressed her lips together. Tension lines bracketed her eyes. “Words were said and well… I’m going back home today.”

Mysta opened her mouth to speak.

Vivi held up her hand. “With all the drama going on in the leap right now, Mom is trying to force me into an arranged marriage. I just can’t deal with more stress. And I won’t go into it, not when Sera doesn’t know the whole story.” A plea showed in her dark brown eyes.

Mysta gritted her teeth, then reluctantly nodded. She hated keeping things from Sera. But more than that, she loathed Francine for putting Vivi and Sera in this position to begin with.

“I have to go back to make peace before I get my own place. I need to do it for myself. Anyway, thank you so much for letting me stay.” Vivi grabbed her bag and headed to the door.

“Vivi, wait.” Mysta followed the younger shifter and placed a hand on Vivi’s shoulder. The half calico, half black panther shifter tensed up. “You’re my friend. You’re welcome and safe here.”

Vivi’s body sagged under the weight of Mysta’s touch. “Mom was pissed. Sera had to go and help Bridget. I couldn’t stay there and cause trouble. I know trouble is brewing between them and Mom, Sera, and the leap. I’ve heard the rumors, read the tea leaves. I have to separate myself from both of them, find my own way. Besides I have to talk to my mom, again.” Vivi rolled her eyes. “Get her to understand some of what I want, and if she lets me, is it okay if I come back here? Besides, I think Sera is hooking up with Carver and Thorn. I don’t want to cramp her style, you know?” Vivi drew in a huge breath.

Mysta laughed and ruffled the young woman’s hair. “Of course it is. Does this have to do with those yummy dragon brothers you’re friends with?”

“Lunar Lust does not make for a good environment. I need to figure out how to handle it when I’m around them. They offered me a room in their flat. Not free, gotta pay rent and chip in for groceries, but it’s still a roof over my head.”

“And a buffet of male gorgeousness. I hear they rarely wear clothing much less shirts unless they have to. Are you sure your delicate kitty sensibilities can handle it?” Mysta teased.

“I think so. Not sure around the full moon though.” Vivi gave a shaky laugh. Twin crimson spots appeared on her cheeks.

“That bad, huh? Do you need something? I can whip up a quick potion for you. If it gets bad I’m sure Bridget can help. We’re all here for you, babe, you know that right?” Mysta gave Vivi a hug. Vivi reminded her of her younger sister Karolina. Both Vivi and Karolina were sweet and filled with good intentions. Exhaustion tugged at her. The sex, her new situation with Malcolm, and now Vivi’s issues with her mother were depleting what little energy she had left.

“I’ll tell you if I need your help. Thanks for offering.” Vivi stepped back, grabbed her jacket from the rack near the door, and left.

With a sigh, Mysta shrugged out of her coat and hung it up, then returned to the kitchen to clean up Vivi’s plate and mug of coffee. A minute later, Malcolm came down the stairs.

“Nice kid, not my type, not enough curves and too young. Like ’em mature.”

“Ugh, you’re starting to make me wonder which you’re after, a witch or a lay.” She poured herself a cup of coffee. “What are you doing up? Aren’t you tired?” Aches and pains pinged around her body with each step.

“I didn’t say that. I took the bedroom in the corner, by the way. I hope you don’t mind.” He came forward and poked around the counter.

“I told you—”

“I know what you told me, but I’m too set in my ways to pick a room where I don’t have a way to defend myself properly in. Hellhound remember? We make enemies like people breathe.”

Mysta’s stomach lurched. “Why would you—”

“Old habits die hard. Now, got any bacon? You know it makes everything better, right?” He grinned and opened up the fridge and took out a slab of Canadian from her Bacon of the Month club offering.

She gritted her teeth. “You’re going to be a headache, aren’t you?”

“Moi? Nooo, I’m a sweet ole hellhound, totally tame. Put a collar on me and watch me sit, beg, and stay, and that’s all before the kinky stuff.” He gave her wink, grabbed a pan, and got to work. “Oh, did you want some?”

“So you’re going to crash at my place, eat my food, and probably make a mess and goddess knows what else.” She ran a hand through her already messy hair.

He gave her an innocent look. “I wouldn’t do that to you. Well, not unless I didn’t like you and I do. Like you, that is.”

“Oh goody. Look, just don’t break anything. I’m going to grab a shower, and after I’ll take a nap. I have to go into the office. Don’t burn down my house.” She turned and headed upstairs. Why did hellhounds have to be so much trouble?

CHAPTER EIGHT

Viktor returned to the Earth magics section to find it cleaned up, his shirt folded and Mysta gone. He sank down in a chair, not caring that he was only in his jeans and shoes, and sighed.

She’d left him again. Not even a note, again. At least not to him anyway. At least he knew where to look for her, and they were in the same town so she couldn’t avoid him forever. He picked up his Henley from the floor and pulled it over his head. Once it was on, he went to the front and put the beer in the mini fridge. Shevon wouldn’t mind. She loved Guinness, and he could use it to curry favor if what happened during the night ever came up. He headed over to the cleaning closet and got out the vacuum and other implements and returned to scrubbing up.

He finished up, then did a once-over, entered a checkout form for Mysta based on the list of the books she’d taken that she’d left for Shevon and filed it away in both the computer and cabinet. Tasks complete, he locked up and headed out.

On his way home he stopped off to grab a bagel and coffee from The Java Demon. Carver was working the front counter as usual, and Thorn was nowhere to be seen, but Thorn did have a whiff of Sera’s perfume on him. Viktor smiled and shook his head. Those two demons had been hot after her for a while, and now they’d snagged her. This only brought out the competitive part of him, pushing him to continue going after Mysta to win her back. Even though, in his mind, he hadn’t lost her.

He went over the events at the library in his head. It was a start, and he refused to go back to the way it had been with her trying to avoid him. Now that he had an opening, he was going to take it.

He passed by Karin’s Floral Fancies. Perfect. He went in and found Karin at her post at the front desk.

“Hey, Viktor, good to see you back in town. What can I do for you? Lilacs for your mother again?” She beamed at him, her right hand reached for the wrapping paper.

His heart stuttered. He lost the words, and tears blurred in his vision. To cover up his reaction he took in slow, even breaths. “Not yet, not this time. And I’m living here now.” He gave her a small smile. “I need roses, purple and silver ones if you got them.”

“For Mysta, hm? I was wondering when you were going to try and go after her.” She gathered the flowers for his order. “Well, that’s great. Our town could use more people like you moving in.”

He chuckled. “Well, yeah. Now that I’m living here, I thought it was time. Oh, before I forget your romance books are in. But do I have to put them in a paper bag? It makes me feel like you’re trying to hide something dirty. They’re just books.”

“Well, that’s the fun of it, isn’t it?” Karin leered at him. “Makes me feel like I’m getting a present. Besides everyone needs to feel dirty now and again, makes life spicy.”

His face heated up.

“I would agree if it wasn’t for—” He paused, not sure how to phrase the rest of the sentence.

“It’s the way I look, isn’t it? I know, a little ball with legs and arms and I smell of roses all the time, like your granny. Which is how I get away with saying some of the things I do. Tickles me to no end. I can swear and drink and everyone will be so shocked and pretend they didn’t see me do it. I love to go to Wolf’s Lair Pub. Makes him so uncomfortable, and I’m seeing his grandfather, which only adds to his embarrassment.” She wrapped up the flowers. “I put together a dozen for you, and it’s on the house. Well, unless you don’t get her. In that case you’ll have to come back and pay.”

She gave him a hard look that made him feel as if he was being punished for something. He shifted from one foot to the other and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll try—”

“Do or do not, there is no try. It’s true. Now go get her.” She shoved the flowers at him, then came around the counter and gave him a smack on the ass, hard. He let out a yelp. “Off with you. I have to bake some snickerdoodles.”

He rubbed his butt as he went, hoping it would never happen to him again.

His steps led him to the far side of town in the Witch District where Bridget, Mysta, Sera, and Lana lived. In a small town like Evenfall, everyone knew where everyone lived. Here the air smelled of magic and the sweet spiciness of cooking potions. He hoped Mysta was home and they could talk about what happened.

He opened the gate and stepped onto a neat and clean flagstone walkway. Each person had their own area. Bridget’s was a plain walkway you would see in front of any house. Lana had a similar path, but hers, was bordered with purple pansies with orange around the eye. Sera’s was also flagstone with mini herbs as a border, and Mysta’s was bordered with a mix of different herbs and flowers.

A black cat darted out in front of him, rushed up the steps, jumped up onto the ledge surrounding the tiny porch and made herself comfortable.

Viktor recognized her as Ms. Zelda, Mrs. Peterson’s cat. “Hey, Ms. Z, having yourself an adventure? Don’t stay out too late, or Mrs. Peterson will worry, okay?” He gave the cat a quick scratch behind her right ear and then stepped up to the door. He raised his fist to knock.

The door swung open before his hand hit the wood. Malcolm stood there with his sunglasses on, shirtless, a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. “Hey, come on in. Mysta isn’t home.”

He turned around and headed back into the house, giving Viktor a view of the flame tattoo on his back and the mini pinup devils on both shoulders. The light scent of bacon, pancakes, and coffee floated on the air, eliciting a growl from Viktor’s stomach.

“What the fuck, man?” Viktor followed him into the kitchen and shut the door behind him. “Why are you here? Did Mysta let you in here without supervision?”

“She took pity on me and allowed me to stay here for a while, it depends on what happens.” Malcolm spit into the sink. Viktor winced.

“A week? Dude, use the damn bathroom.” Viktor wanted to find the bleach and clean the stainless steel dual basin area.

“What? Oh, this? If there’s a sink, I’ll use it. Anyway, don’t freak out, but I’m hiding behind enemy lines to help you.” He gave him a wink.

Viktor rolled his eyes. “Uh-huh. I don’t buy it.” He settled down at the breakfast counter and looked around.

Nothing was on fire, looked damaged or dented from what he could see, but he’d never been inside before. He took it all in. Her taste in décor was clean, simple, easy to move, and comfortable. Much better than the crap he’d had in his apartment. Flea market and curb finds that had seen better days. A smile tugged at his lips as he spotted a few paintings and wildlife photos of foxes in forests and playing in the snow. Here and there he saw snake patterns mixed among the others she used for fabric. It looked tasteful and simple, not tacky.

“If you’re done ogling her furniture can we plan some strategy before her other roommate gets back? If she gets back.”

“She lives alone.” Viktor had made sure of it.

Malcolm shook his head. “Nope, she’s been giving Sera’s stepsister a place to stay, and I’m sure she’ll be back. Cute, curvy little thing, but cats aren’t my thing, especially when they smell of dragon.” Malcolm shuddered. “I like my ass just where it is. No barbecue hellhound for them.”

Viktor filed this new information away for future questions and turned his attention to Malcolm. “Okay, tell me your war plan.” He waited for Malcolm to say something stupid.

“I stay here for a few days, let her help me find a few witches who can possibly help me, and I steer her in your direction, talk you up and shit. Be your Cyrano. Only I don’t get the girl in the end. Piece of cake.” Malcolm crossed his arms, leaned his butt against the counter’s edge, and gave him a toothy grin.

“You think she’ll fall for your lines? Mysta’s too smart to be easily swayed.”

“Of course she is, but what do you have to lose about letting me try a crack at her? Besides I want to see if I can get a job at her office. Might be useful to me. Hellhounds are hella good trackers.” Malcolm shoved his hands in his pockets and preened.

“So this is not only a possible way to get paired but also a way to help me?” Viktor shook his head. “I don’t think this will work, not the way you think it will.”

“Why not give it a try and see what happens? What could it hurt? And while I’m at it, you keep the pressure up. Let me have those flowers. I’ll put them in a vase. I know where she keeps them.” Malcolm took the bouquet and made himself busy.

“You know your way around this place a little too well. Why are you doing this?” Viktor was uneasy about his friend’s familiarity. He trusted Malcolm but hellhounds did lie to benefit themselves.

“Because you’re my friend, and I want you happy. And as to your other comment, she went to work, and I decided to scope out my surroundings. I need to know what I’m dealing with. Everything is neat as a pin. She does have a nice assortment of sex toys.” He held up his hands. “I only looked, didn’t pick them up or examine them, but there is a drawer dedicated to them and all arranged with their own cubbies and everything, along with different lubes and cleaning stuff. She’s got cock rings in there.”

Malcolm gave him a look, but Viktor didn’t take the bait even though he wanted to know who had used those before him. The green-eyed monster tried to rise, but he ignored it. No use grousing, but when he did get to ask he would make it clear she had better have a damn good reason for leaving him and allowing someone else to try to take his place in her bed. If there had been someone. Punishment would be in order. Images spilled into his mind of bending her over his lap and paddling her ass or tying her down and fucking her nice and slow but not letting her come. Heat and arousal rose, his cock thickening again as his Lunar Lust spiked.

“Down, boy,” Malcolm admonished with a laugh.

Viktor ignored his desire. “Yeah, yeah. Okay, so, now you’ve told me the plan. Do you want to tell me why you’re here?”

“I was on a job and was in the area. Job is over I wanted to celebrate with you. Nice payday too.” Malcolm grinned.

Viktor didn’t buy it for a second. “And your overabundance of magic?”

Red splotches appeared on Mal’s face. “There was a woman, and I was forced to use some of my abilities. Crafty little feline shifter too. Scratched me up good.” Malcolm eyed him. His gaze narrowed. “Where’s the cowboy hat I got you, and why aren’t you using your motorcycle? You walked here?” He turned away from Viktor and began to take things out of the fridge.

“Nice segue, but I won’t forget about what you just said and I call bullshit. But I won’t push. Anyway, if you haven’t noticed the streets are cobblestone, and in some places there are deep gouges in the road. My suspension would hate me, not to mention my tires. As far as the cowboy hat goes, I need a new one. The other one got chewed up when I left it out within Randa’s reach.” An idea struck him. “Think Mysta would go for a moonlight ride?”

Malcolm grinned so widely that his canines were visible. “My boy is thinking! Good idea. Leave the invite with me. Got any foxglove flowers?”

Viktor rolled his eyes. “Thought of it but didn’t ask if Karin had any. I’ll check with Holly and see if she has some, write out a quick note and leave it here with you.”

“Better hurry. It would be good to have both the roses and foxglove here when she gets back. I’ll call you and let you know how she takes it and if you need to swing by. Now off, shoo with you.” Malcolm waved him away.

Viktor left. Despite his reservations, he was sure his plan would work. Maybe they could do a moonlight picnic tonight. He’d check on his bike and stop by the store to grab wine, cheeses, fruit, and a few other items they could eat cold. He just hoped she went for it and he wouldn’t have to kidnap her just for a date.

CHAPTER NINE

Mysta arrived at the office and let herself into the building via the back entrance. She found Lana already there tending to the herb pots. While Lana watered the plants, Mysta unlocked the front door and started up the coffee machine.

Exhaustion tugged at Mysta’s eyes, and her body felt heavier and stiffer, but at least her Lunar Lust had been sated…for now. Her thoughts started to drift back to Viktor. Now things would really become awkward when she went to the library. She could hit the one on the other side of town, but no way did she want to appear to be running away.

Her thoughts scattered when the door burst open and bounced off the wall. She stood up, calling on her magic just in case.

Bridget came through the door first, dragging an unconscious vampire behind her. Sera followed, limping and grimacing with each step.

“We have a dangerous situation.” Bridget pulled the vampire to the corner in the visitor’s area. “Mysta, get a tarp and cover him. We need to work fast.”

Sera slid behind her desk, opened up a filing cabinet, and slipped in a thick folder. “Bridget called me for backup at the inn. When we got to his room. He was ready for us, which was expected. What wasn’t expected was finding a dossier on our Vampire Liege, Joe, and Bridget. We need to figure out what the hell is going on. Bridget will fill Joe in later when he arises. For now we have to get answers, and we can’t just give away our prisoner.”

Bridget called out to them. “So we’re going to make a clone of him and deliver him to Joe. Sera, Mysta, Lana. In the workroom, ASAP. Bring a few strands of the rogue’s hair. Not a full hank.” Bridget brushed past Mysta and headed to the back of the office.

“Roger that, boss,” Sera responded and yanked out a handful of tresses.

Mysta glanced over at Sera who bobbed her head toward the hallway. Mysta, Sera, and Lana followed Bridget into a clean workspace with a circle of iron melted into the floor. A pentacle imprinted into the middle of the circle formed the very center of the room. Mysta, Sera, and Bridget paused and drew in deep breaths, then entered the ring.

Bridget pressed her hands together over her heart center, bowed her head, and then raised her hands and lifted her chin. “I call upon the gods, goddesses, the spirit guides, the elements, and all the energies of the universe to heed my call and guide me through this ceremony. So mote it be.”

Mysta, Sera, and Lana bowed their heads. “I call upon the elements to bless this working. I ask for the protection of the goddess for myself and my sisters that we may do good in her name and protect the innocent, vanquish evil, and stand on the side of the righteous. So mote it be.”

Mysta took her place to the north of Bridget—the place of earth—in the circle. She watched as Bridget lit candles around the loop and then placed strands of the rogue vamp’s hair in the center of the circle. Bridget took her place in the center of the ring, acting as the anchor for all the elements she was invoking.

Mysta widened her stance, planted her feet firm on the ground, and raised her power. A sense of mud grabbing her feet and sucking them down latched on to her, holding her steady. She channeled all of her energy toward Bridget. Coolness flowed through her body, followed by a gradual warmth that beaded her brow with sweat.

The tresses glowed with a dull yellow light. Where the hairs rested, the outline of a body formed and filled out with flesh until it was the size of the actual rogue vampire. Sweat poured over Mysta’s forehead and trickled down her temple at the exertion and heat of her magic. The figure became solid, though it remained featureless.

Mysta channeled more of her magic into Bridget until the clone became an exact replica of the original. Once the double took its first breath, Mysta willed her energies to taper off. She wobbled. Sera and Lana exhaled but remained on their feet.

“It’s done,” Bridget declared.

The last of the spell dissipated into the air. Bridget stuck her hand out of the circle, breaking the barrier. She sagged, swaying on her feet.

Sera and Mysta rushed toward Bridget and poured some of their reserve energy into her. Once Bridget could stand without wanting to fall over, they helped her to her office and propped her up in a chair. She was able to sit without slumping. Mysta and Sera returned to pick up the vampire double, and headed out to the visitor’s area to place it under a canvas for easy hauling. Then they took the rogue vampire into a warded room next to Bridget’s office, locked the door, and returned to the front office.

Fifteen minutes later their broker’s representative walked through the door. Sera showed him into Bridget’s office so Bridget could give him the rundown of any trouble they had gone through. She wasn’t fully recharged yet, but there was nothing they could do about that. Mysta stood guard over the clone while Sera and Lana went about filing, watering, and tending to the office plants. The last thing they needed was for it to wake up. Clones were good for distractions, but they couldn’t do anything more than walk and answer basic questions. They didn’t need it to ruin everything until it had been delivered to the client.

Their broker’s human representative emerged from Bridget’s office with a smile on his face. Mysta moved to the side so he could reach the clone. He picked it up with ease and carried it out the door without help. Show off.

After he left, Mysta, Sera, and Lana settled down to their usual tasks. Due to the expense of energy, none of them were in any sort of shape to do much more than basic office work: filing, taking phone calls, and getting things organized. Meanwhile Bridget worked in her office. Mysta did the last of her daily chores until her eyesight blurred, and her head began to ache.

Mid-afternoon Bridget came out of her office and leaned a hip in the doorway. “We’re all exhausted and need to recoup our energy. Go home. That’s an order.”

Mysta didn’t argue. “Thanks, Bridget.” She grabbed her purse and headed out the door.

Mid-afternoon sunlight filled her eyes and made her blink a few times. Tendrils of cool air tugged at her. She made her way home, hating that the mayor of the town wouldn’t allow taxis due to the cobblestone roadways and wanting to maintain a sort of old-world feel for the tourists. Every step she took jarred her already tired body and drained what little energy reserves she had.

By the time she walked through the door, she was ready to collapse into a chair or bed, whichever was closer.

The scent of ground beef sizzling made her stomach churn.

Malcolm came out of the kitchen area and gestured to two separate bouquets, one of roses and the other foxgloves. “Welcome home. Viktor stopped by twice. Left these.”

Her heart stuttered. Memories of Viktor leaving foxglove flowers for her at different places where he knew she would be came rushing back to her. Something inside of her thawed. He remembered.

“He also left this.” Malcolm handed her a small envelope.

She took it without a thought, opened it, and read it. Please allow me to pamper you with a ride and a quiet dinner set near Silverlake Waterfall. I’ll come for you at midnight. I love you, Viktor.

Any lethargy faded away. She pushed up her glasses and looked away to hide her reaction. “I’ll go call him.” She’d play it cautious for now. But she wouldn’t do it immediately. She suspected that Malcolm had given Viktor a heads-up. Well, it would only be fair to her to give Malcolm enough time to warn Viktor of what to expect. She left the kitchen area to head upstairs and clean the day’s work off of her body.

She took her time in the shower. Once she was dried off and dressed, she grabbed her cell phone and called Viktor. “Viktor, Malcolm told me about your invitation, and I’d like to say I accept.”

“Thank you for giving me a chance, Mysta. You won’t be sorry, I promise.” Enthusiasm filled Viktor’s tone. She could hear him smiling through the phone.

“Not promising you anything, but after last night…I…” she stuttered.

“Don’t say you owe me. Please, don’t make what we did some favor. Look, I have to go, but I’ll see you soon. I love you.” He hung up before she could ask him not to say those three little words.

When she came downstairs she found Lana in her living room dressed to garden. The pixie sat at the breakfast bar that divided the kitchen from the living room, looking wary. Her legs swung back and forth. At two feet tall, not her full five feet one inch, she looked like a child dressed in baggy overalls and a worn and frayed white sweater and dirty work boots. Her delicate features were free of makeup. Malcolm was moving around the kitchen area as if the pixie wasn’t staring holes into him.

Mysta walked farther into the room. “Hey, Lana, what’s up?”

Lana didn’t glance at her. “There’s a hellhound in your kitchen.” Her words were clipped and tense.

“Yes, he’s a guest.” Mysta tried to use a low tone, soft and gentle, so as not to put her off.

“Hellhounds hunted my kind down during the old times, said we were tasty.” Lana folded her arms over her chest.

Malcolm stopped moving around the kitchen and turned to give Lana his full attention. “Well, you were.” Malcolm mimicked her posture, a naughty glint in his gaze. “I don’t eat pixies the way you’re implying, sweetheart.” He gave her a wink.

Mysta shook her head. “Does your eye automatically do that, or do you just think it’s cute? Lana, why don’t you go outside, and I’ll join you. I’ll bring sandwiches, and we can talk.” Worry filled her. If Malcolm couldn’t win Lana over Bridget might not help out of loyalty to Lana.

Lana gave him a once-over before she turned and flew outside, her iridescent wings fluttering so fast they were a blur.

She focused on Malcolm. “Did you—?”

“No.” Anger hardened his voice. He began chopping up some tomatoes. “I’m making tacos. I’ll put together something for you and Lana, or maybe not?”

“Yes, her name is Lana. And if you’re going to stay here you have to get along with her.” Mysta hoped that Malcolm wouldn’t screw this up.

“Lana is no problem, but I’ll make myself scarce around her. Let her adjust at her own pace. Did you talk to Bridget?” He still hadn’t twisted around to face her.

“Didn’t have time. Tomorrow, I’ll get some time with her. It’s been an exhaustive day. I’ll go change and be outside. Thanks for cooking.”

“You’re welcome. I get it, to be on the outside looking in and having to change your mind-set about things. I understand.” He scooped the cut tomatoes into a bowl and began on the lettuce.

Mysta left the house to join her friend.

Lana kneeled on the walkway on a small tarp, pruning the herbaceous border along the pathway that led up to Mysta’s front door. One of the things Bridget wanted for all of them to understand was what one another brought to the table. Each month they spent time with one other member of the business to figure out their job and to appreciate what they brought to the table.

“Hey.” Mysta called out.

“Is he staying here?” Lana jerked her head toward the house.

“Yes, for a bit. He’s a friend of Viktor’s. You’ve seen him around town? It’s a favor.”

“Why does he smell of you?” Lana didn’t look at her when she asked.

Shit! Mysta’s heart paused. She didn’t know pixies’ senses of smell were that keen.

“Not a lot but there’s a bit of your magic on him.” Lana snipped off a dead branch.

She exhaled. “He was having issues. He doesn’t have a witch or wizard to help with the excess energy dump. I helped him out.”

“He’s a familiar? Whoa, I’ve never heard of a hellhound as one before.” Lana’s eyes widened, and her wings fluttered faster. “Why wouldn’t he have one? Is it because of the black magic? If used correctly, according to you, it can be useful and only in small quantities.” Lana Polly-parroted Mysta’s own words back at her.

Heat filled her face. Bridget hadn’t agreed with her assessment at all. “I know what I said. He was cursed into becoming a familiar.”

“So it’s not ’cause he’s a flirty asshole?” Lana’s face scrunched up.

Mysta burst out laughing. “Maybe.”

Lana smirked.

“Are you scared of him?” Pixies had a good sense of people. They’d studied all humans and supernatural creatures over the centuries. They could judge who would be fun to play with, who needed a lesson, and who should be rewarded.

“No, but I’m cautious of him. There is something dangerous about him. He’s a flirt, which is cute, but it’s a defense mechanism, I think.” She tapped her chin.

“So do you think I should help him? Maybe Bridget should be involved.” She hoped Lana said yes.

“Yeah, I think he does need help. We all need aid once in a while. If it wasn’t for you and Bridget and Sera I would be stuck in servitude to someone who used my magic up and discarded me when I couldn’t work anymore.” Lana sniffled.

Mysta’s heart melted, and warmth suffused her body, buoying her emotions. Before Mysta could say something though, Lana flitted away to another grouping of herbs.

Mysta pruned the patch they had been working on and moved to where Lana was weeding a patch of lavender.

Lana grew to her regular size and walked around a bit, inspecting the plants. “Goddess, walking is annoying. I have a pebble in my shoe, and I think my arches have fallen.” She pouted and kicked a thick clump of grass.

“Your arches can’t fall just because you’ve walked a bit, lazy bones. Come on, let’s get you some tacos. Oh, and I’m going out at midnight with Viktor for a picnic, so don’t freak out if you can’t find me. Can you deal with Malcolm if he offers to help?”

“Bridget gave me some sleeping potion. It knocks me out, so I don’t have the nightmares from the past, or if I do and wake up, I don’t remember. Don’t worry about me, okay? I’ll be fine, and yes, if he offers I’ll give him a try.” Lana gave her a little push in the arm.

“I won’t, I promise, but I need to know.” She stopped on the porch. “If you do can Malcolm step in?”

Before Lana could respond, the door opened and a shirtless Malcolm greeted them holding a plate of tacos. “I was going to bring it out to you. Are you done already?”

“Maybe, he can if he promises to behave,” Lana called out to Mysta. She walked past Malcolm into the house, heading for the kitchen area. “And yes, we’re done. Are those pinup devils surrounded by flames on your back shoulders?” Curiosity filled her tone. Relief washed through Mysta at the question. Lana was making an effort.

“Huh?” Malcolm headed to the dining table and set the tacos down. “Um, yeah. Lost a dare.”

Mysta closed the door behind her and washed her hands at the kitchen sink, then returned to the table. Lana and Mysta took a moment to study the meal that Malcolm had prepared. The tacos sat in the center of the table, surrounded by bowls of condiments like sour cream and shredded cheddar. Salt and pepper shakers rested on both sides of the platter. Plates and silverware had already been arranged on the dining table.

“Aw, you set the table. I didn’t think hellhounds knew how to do that.” There was no teasing in Lana’s tone.

Malcolm shrugged. “Picked it up on a job, useful thing to know when in company.”

They took their seats at the table. Lana insisted on blessing the meal. “Goddess of Harvest, we thank you for this bounty that is laden before us. We offer our praises and blessings for this honor. May this meal nourish our bodies, feed our souls, and in turn allow us to honor you with our gifts. Blessed be.”

Malcolm and Mysta echoed the ending and dug in.

For the rest of dinner Malcolm regaled them with various tidbits about jobs he’d done as a hellhound before he became a familiar. Assignments that were botched, people that were lost, stories that made him look like a fool. Lana laughed at each humiliation. Even Mysta chuckled.

When they had finished eating, Malcolm cleared the table. While Lana and Mysta wiped down the table and arranged the chairs, he washed and dried the dishes and put them away.

“Thanks for the tacos,” Mysta called out.

Malcolm shrugged and got out the wet mop and pad. He went to work cleaning up the floor in the kitchen area. Mysta couldn’t complain with the direction things were going.

“I’ll say one thing,” Lana said, “at least he helps with the cleaning. He’s still a hellhound though.” She sniffed.

“Lana, don’t judge. He could be different.”

Lana crossed her arms over her chest. “He’s a hellhound. Hellhounds are trouble without saying a word.”

Mysta couldn’t find a response. She didn’t know much about his kind. “I’m going to get ready for my date with Viktor.” She headed upstairs to her room.

Lana trailed behind her. “So are you hoping you two will get back together?” A coy look spread across her face.

“We’ll see.”

“It’s okay, you know? You’re one of us, Mysta. No more having to work for your place.” Lana slipped into Mysta’s bedroom ahead of her and sat down in a chair near the window.

Mysta took a quick shower where she washed her hair. She finished, dried off, and put on a robe before returning to her bedroom and sitting at her vanity. “Yeah, but—” She continued her conversation with Lana.

“No buts. We all see how hard you work and study. You even went to the library even after Bridget gave us the night off for Samhain. So what’s the story?”

“Viktor was my first boyfriend.” Mysta shifted around on her seat. She was out of her depth here. The sensation filled her with tension. “Before I left I found a ring that made me think he wanted to marry me. It scared the crap out of me, Lana.”

Lana’s eyes grew wide. “Whoa, but why did it scare you?”

“Yeah, whoa. My whole life was prepping for becoming a familiar and helping my family. I just…the fact that he wanted to commit to me, and I wasn’t ready.” Lana started combing her hair. She tugged on a stubborn knot of curls, and Mysta winced. “Ow.”

“Sorry.” Lana kept combing.

“Anyway, I still don’t know if I’m ready. I worked so hard to get to this point. Marriage didn’t fit into my life at that time, not with my duty to my family. I’m not even sure I want to get married.” Mysta stopped talking when Lana turned on the hair dryer and dried her curls. She waited until the dryer had been shut off before she continued. “What would that do to my work with you guys? There are so many questions that I’m not sure I want the answers to.”

“You’re afraid you’ll lose it, aren’t you? That’s why you work so hard. You’re afraid that you’ll have to go back to being the Main Branch’s bitch and joke, right? I get it. But your place is assured here. You don’t have to keep trying anymore. And maybe you’re just not ready yet to ask those questions.”

Mysta winced at the mention of the Main Branch. “Yeah, they took everything, our money, our family home, our place in familiar society. My success with Bridget gives my family their honor back and my siblings the shot my mom and dad never had. But just because I have this spot doesn’t mean it will be there forever. Bridget could find another familiar who’s better than me. Maybe. I don’t know.” She didn’t want to face those queries yet.

“That’s bullshit, Mys, and you know it, but you’ll just have to figure that out on your own. So for now you can take it easy, restart something with Viktor, see where it goes, and when you’re ready, face your fears. Like tonight.” Lana winked.

She rose and went over to Mysta’s closet where she proceeded to tear the clothes off of the hangers, pausing only to examine them before discarding them.

“Lana! I don’t know about Viktor, the way I left wasn’t exactly nice. I didn’t tell him I was going, but we had an agreement, no strings, no questions so…”

“But clearly he’s still interested. Otherwise why here and why the library? Look, just go on this date, and see where it goes. Now, something for you to wear. Gotta find something cute and warm. Boots are a must of course but a dress, a nice one. Ah-ha!” She held up a teal sweater dress. “And with your leather jacket it should be cute. You can keep the boots. I’ll start picking your makeup. You go check how I did with your hair.”

Lana began putting Mysta’s clothes back. Mysta could only hope Lana would do a natural-looking makeup once she was finished. She ducked into the bathroom to peek at herself in the mirror. The curls were smooth and formed perfect spirals that framed her face in a way she’d had never been able to get right no matter how hard she tried. A wash of pleasure went through her. She felt pretty.

Mysta returned to her bedroom, ready for Lana to work her overzealous magic. She sat in front of the mirror and waited.

Lana moved into view behind her. “It’s not going to be torture, and it’s not going to be a bad thing, I promise. Now spill. Why are you doing this?”

Mysta tried to figure out what to say to Lana. “Doing what?”

Lana popped open a bottle of face lotion and squirted a bit in her palms. With gentle touches she rubbed in the moisturizer. “I think a natural look would be good for you. Trying to avoid what you really want?”

“Because…”

Lana patted Mysta’s face with a makeup pad. “You didn’t answer me.”

Mysta decided for the truth. “I want to see where this will go with him. I’m curious to see where it goes, even if I don’t think it will amount to much. I left him.”

“Okay. You deserve to be happy, Mysta. Studying and working for Bridget isn’t everything, and your siblings are set because of you, so don’t worry.” Mysta opened her mouth to reply, but Lana beat her to the punch. “Besides, sex is a great stress reliever. Don’t deny it. Okay, it’s clown time.”

“Lana—”

“I promise not to make you look like Pennywise, okay? Now shut your eyes.” Lana shrunk down to her miniature size of three inches.

Mysta closed her eyes. The light touch and flicker of the brushes and pads on her face didn’t hurt. If anything, it tickled, but she couldn’t tell what Lana was doing until it all stopped.

Mysta opened her eyes.

“There. Done. Turn around, and see how good I am.” Lana flew backward until she was a foot away and grew to her normal height. She stood to the side, eyes narrowed in consideration.

Mysta moved the chair around to look at herself in the mirror. Lana hadn’t done a bad job. In fact, it was perfect. Rose-colored lip gloss, nude eye shadow, and black eyeliner. Her skin tone was even and flawless. All in all a damn good job. “Thanks. It looks great.”

“Now go put on your dress, and you can wear your slouchy boots and leggings with the jacket I picked out. It’s lined to keep you warm. Okay, I’m off. I’ve got several TV shows to watch. Laters. Remember, have fun and give him a chance.” She left the room with a flutter of wings, her feet dragging over the wooden floor.

Mysta put on underwear and changed into the outfit: a green sweater dress with a low neckline, nude-colored leggings and boots, and a matching quilt-lined jacket. It was feminine, warm, and comfortable.

She opened the door to a wolf whistle. Malcolm stood there, an apple in one hand, a paring knife in the other, and a stupid grin on his face.

“What the hell? How long have you been standing there? I thought the door was closed.” She took a step back.

“Just a few seconds. You look beautiful. Viktor doesn’t stand a chance. Look, I know this will rock the boat, but I’d be a bad friend if I didn’t say this. He won’t be pushed away forever. Just hear him out.”

“Is that a threat?” Mysta crossed her arms over her chest.

“Nope, just a warning. Viktor loves you, but, he’s not as patient as he seems.” Malcolm walked past her into the room. His gaze roamed around and came back to her.

“Why do you care? This has nothing to do with you.” She gritted her teeth. Her body quaked. Her snake’s hiss filled her head, but the animal didn’t make an appearance.

“Because he’s my best friend, and hellhounds don’t normally have those, and he loves you even after you left without a word. I get it about family honor. But what’s worth more, your honor or your mate?”

She gritted her teeth. Damn, hellhounds.

The doorbell rang. He rushed from Mysta’s room. Mysta followed him. “Damn it, this isn’t your home. You’re a guest.”

Malcolm answered the door before she could get there. Viktor stood in the doorway with a smile on his face.

Malcolm grinned and continued to eat his apple. “I’m gonna go read a Poirot and drink some hot chocolate. I won’t wait up. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He walked past her and went up the stairs.

Viktor coughed, drawing Mysta’s attention back to him. He looked good enough to eat in tight blue jeans, scuffed-up motorcycle books, another form-fitting Henley shirt, and a cracked and ancient brown leather jacket. His wavy blond hair lay flat on his head, but even helmet hair couldn’t take away his appeal. His eyes sparkled with eagerness.

Mysta grabbed her purse and then shut and locked the door behind her.

She spotted the big black beast of a Harley parked at the curb. “I didn’t hear the black monster.”

“Wheeled it down the street. I’ll have to be careful though. You look gorgeous by the way.” Viktor guided her down the path to the motorcycle and handed her a helmet, which she put on. He helped her onto the bike. Mysta thanked the goddess for Lana being thoughtful enough to include leggings with her outfit.

Viktor threw a leg over the bike and started up the engine. The motorcycle roared to life. The vibrations stimulated her sex, awakening her desire.

He kicked out the stand and took off. “Your street’s cobblestones are much smoother to ride over,” Viktor called out, his voice muffled by the purr of the engine and the helmets.

When they stopped at a sign, she slipped her arms around his waist and held on tight to him. The motorcycle continued to vibrate.

Their way was clear. They sped along down Main Street, past the office and the library, heading toward the west of town and the wooded area used by shifters for the full moon. Vibrations raced along her legs, teasing her sex, pushing her toward ecstasy.

“Viktor,” she called out, her voice shaky. Her body had become a wet noodle. “How much longer?”

“It’s a ways to the spot I want to get to. Don’t worry, it won’t be long.”

Damn it. She gulped down air and buried her face into his shoulder inhaling his scent to ground her. Despite it being after Samhain Eve, free magic was still floating around. It added to her pleasure, increasing her arousal. Just feeling the solidity of his body as she pressed against him didn’t help her. The wind stole all her whimpers and groans. She tried to hold still but couldn’t help but squirm a bit. The sensations were too delicious. Now if only he was fucking her at the same time. It would be heaven.

Her snake slipped up, and the shift came upon her. Scales rippled over her skin. Mysta could hear the sounds of night animals scurrying around and taste the heat in the atmosphere.

The bike pulled off into a parking lot at the entrance to the forest. A path of flameless candles and strewn foxglove petals led deep into the trees.

The shift pulled back. The need swirling in her body increased. Her clit throbbed. Her pussy clenched. Tingles raced over her skin. She glanced at Viktor who was studying her, his expression filled with naked hope and worry.

“Lovely,” was all she could muster.

“Just lovely? Well, you need to see the picnic area.” He dismounted and helped her to stand.

She passed him her helmet. Once it was stored he took her hand and guided her into the forest. Darkness surrounded her. The noises of the night dampened the farther they got in. The air around them cooled, but she didn’t feel chilled in the least. Not once did she feel spooked or as if they were in danger.

They came upon a clearing near the falls not far from Silverlake. Here was the call of the wild. The forest where creatures of myths made their homes and lived secure in the knowledge that no one would harm them, that they were completely safe from hunters.

In the clearing he’d set up a red checked blanket with a single candle set in a holder with various fruits, cheeses, a bottle of wine, and dessert. She smiled at the gesture. He was trying, truly he was, to set the mood. “This is beautiful.”

His features softened. “Remember when it rained, and we couldn’t go picnicking for your birthday? I know it’s late, but I figured, happy birthday.”

Her heart clenched. Why was he being so thoughtful after what she’d done to him? She didn’t feel worthy of him. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I…really appreciate the gesture.”

He bowed his head. “No problem.”

She swallowed and followed him toward the blanket.

CHAPTER TEN

Viktor got Mysta settled on the blanket, then took his place across from her. The constant rush of water over the falls and soft chirps and buzzing around them set the mood. A bush rustled close by, but nothing jumped out at them.

“Wine?” He picked up the bottle—this time a blueberry Riesling from the same brand as the strawberry one—and waited for her to give the go-ahead. His heart pounded. His palms were sweaty. Cool air drifted toward them from the lake. She was giving him a chance, and he wasn’t going to mess it up.

“Water, please,” she whispered.

“You want to keep your head. Understandable.” He dug around the picnic basket and brought out a bottle of water. “Glass or bottle?”

“Bottle.” Her gaze darted around the area. They were far from the road, but the rumble of a truck still reached them.

He offered her some water and watched as she accepted it. Her hand trembled, and her cheeks were pink. He scented the tang of her sweat and fear on the air.

“Mys, it’s okay, I’m scared too.” He watched to see if she believed him.

“I’m not scared—” She started to shake her head but stopped. “No, I am scared. Gotta be honest.”

Pride swelled at her honesty. “Don’t be.” He removed a small bouquet of foxgloves from the basket and handed it to her. “Forgot to give you this.”

Fear, longing, hope, and wistfulness flitted across her features. Then her expression became shuttered.

“No, please don’t. You were honest with me.”

She bobbed her head. She sat so still that her body vibrated with tension. “I can try.”

Relief swept through him at her allowance. “Fantastic. Okay, what would you like to eat? I went for diverse tastes rather than a set theme.” He spread his arm over the array of offerings.

“I had some tacos for dinner with Malcolm and Lana, so I need something light. I’ll try some of that cheese.”

He chuckled. “I guess no kissing later.” He cut her a few slices, laid them on a small paper plate, and handed it to her. She took a sip of water while he served himself. Silence fell between them.

He waited. Fear crept into his body with each passing second. Energy jittered up and down his arms and legs. He wanted to move. To do something to show her that it was okay to open up, to be with him.

Viktor licked his lips, thinking over his next words. Maybe some good news would help open her back up. “Your family is doing well, lots of attention in Arbor. I heard your father has a job working at the apothecary, steady work.”

Relief flitted across her face, and some of her tension slipped away. “We haven’t been able to talk much, so I’m a little out of the loop.”

“Help me understand. Why would a branch of the family and not the whole family shun yours?” He’d tried to ask friends who were familiars, but their explanations had always left him confused.

She swallowed. “Well, if one branch of the family shows more magical ability and has more matches they would be considered the superior side. The other branches would be tested and their magical abilities recorded and put forward to the Council of Familiars who would decide whether they were eligible to participate as a familiar. You have to get tested yearly. Anyone at puberty is tested.” She paused to take a sip of water, then pressed on.

“I showed superior magical ability and knowledge year after year before Bridget requested me. I would’ve been up for early selection had the main branch not had a standing bribe with the testing officials.”

Viktor shuddered at the thought. “So wrong. Just…”

“Matters weren’t helped by my mixed blood. It’s not just shifters who think of blood purity. Familiars can be just as snobbish about mixing with regular shifters or humans.” She turned her head away, but he didn’t miss the tears in her eyes. “I could’ve gone one of two ways. I could’ve been a snake shifter with no magic, or I could’ve just been born a witch and not a shifter, since my mother is only a witch and not a shifter or familiar.”

Her pain lashed at him in thin strips. He could taste the bitterness of her fear.

She continued to speak. “When I met you I was about to be tested for the fourth time, the last time anyone can be tested to become a familiar. Bridget’s family had insisted on my being tested. Despite showing great knowledge and ability, I hadn’t been put forward as a candidate by the main branch to become an official familiar. If, after the testing, I wasn’t selected my whole family would be blackballed. Not even my siblings, had they shown any aptitude, would be able to be selected. The main branch saw to that.” Tears slipped down her cheeks. She met his gaze.

“My family honor was at stake, and here you were, coming into my life, pure sex on a stick. I thought we could date, but it wasn’t enough. You were distracting me. When I practiced on my own, or when I created a potion my attention would dart to you, and I’d get distracted.” Her breath came out shaky.

“When I passed and was paired with Bridget it was relief. Her family had always been kind to mine, and I knew her from childhood. When we were kids, Bridget always said it would be awesome if I was her familiar. I didn’t have many friends, and people in the magical community hadn’t always been so nice, but the Roseways…they were above everyone. I needed to become Bridget’s familiar. Not just for my family but for myself. To prove that I was worth something. That all that studying and limiting my friend circle, all of it had been good for something. Marriage didn't fit into my plans.”

Some of his old anger faded as understanding dawned on him. “So, that’s why you left? You found the ring.”

He could see now why she’d been so standoffish when they first met, why she avoided him. He could have distracted her, costing not only her but her family an opportunity they badly needed.

“You were consuming my waking hours and my dreams. My family has never believed in mates. We’ve never found ours as far as I could see. My father fell in love with my mother and against family wishes they got married, but they weren’t mates. The main edict in my family was to be paired up with someone of a higher branch or from a prestigious family of familiars.”

Viktor stilled as her words sunk in. “Wait, were you—”

“No. My family was written off, remember? I wouldn’t be worth pairing with, even with my magical abilities. Though there was talk among the main vein about a possible match for me after I’d been paired up with Bridget and my magic had been certified by the Council.” She ducked her head. “I had limited time to decide. If I was going to move, I had to move right away. Bridget gave me the opportunity.”

He growled. “You were scared. Admit it. I distracted you. So you said.”

She didn’t answer him.

“You can’t use silence to push me away. I won’t let you run away, not from me or what we have.”

“And then what?” She lifted her chin. A challenge sparked in her dark brown eyes.

He shook his head. “It’s not about me, honey. I want to be with you, period. Now it’s on you to figure out what you want. Your dreams and desires are just as important to me as my own.”

“So I have to choose?” She glanced away from him. Her hands tightened around her glass. She inhaled, then exhaled. After a few seconds she turned to face him. Pain in her eyes.

Viktor put down his glass and moved over to her. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “I’m not asking you to choose. I wouldn’t, but I won’t step back either. I’ll be in your life regardless of how much time you can give me. You are my mate, and your needs are my needs.”

He reached out and tugged a stray curl. The softness tickled his fingertips. She gazed up at him, so open and vulnerable. Temptation reared its ugly head. Before he could stop himself he lowered his head and kissed her. He shut his eyes and savored the warmth of her body against him, the lushness of her lips, the watery and green scents that drifted around them, mixing with the light aroma of desire that emanated from her. His hand tightened around her hair. She reached up and clutched his tresses, holding him against her for a moment. Then she pulled back, panting, lip gloss smeared. She gazed at him with open lust, but then shook her head.

“We better go. I have work tomorrow.”

She was still finding her way with him and at war with herself. “Okay, sugar, okay. But you’re going to have to make the next move and reach out to me. I’ve pled my case. All I’m asking is you give me a chance.”

“I know,” she whispered.

They packed up the rest of the food and drinks. The wine had gone untouched. He vowed that one day they’d drink it.

They rode home in silence. She held on tight to him all the way back. Her chin rested on his shoulder, but she said nothing.

Viktor pulled to a stop at the curb in front of her house. She climbed off the bike and returned his helmet to him. She didn’t lean in and give him a kiss good night, much to his disappointment.

“Don’t forget, honey, your move.” He tilted his head and watched her expression.

Her features firmed. “I’ll… I’ll call you.”

Before he could respond, she darted up the path.

“I’ll be waiting, sugar!”

She didn’t turn toward him, just unlocked her door and slipped into the house. From the upper window he caught sight of Malcolm’s face. The hellhound tipped his head and gave him a wink before disappearing behind a curtain.

Thoughts of the picnic and the kiss with Mysta swirled through his brain. Lunar Lust turned full blast. His whole body burned. His clothes felt too tight, and his heart rate ticked up. He turned on the motorcycle. The power roared to life, then revved down to a low rumble. The vibrations rushed over his body, tickling his balls and increasing his need. His dick thickened and pressed against the denim. He hadn’t noticed his desire during their picnic, but now he couldn’t ignore it.

The ride from her house to his little cabin in the woods took too long. Every second stretched on into eternity with no relief in sight. Along the way he thought about getting off and walking to alleviate what being on his motorcycle did to him. The moon hung in the sky mocking him in its waxing gibbous state. They had a ways to go before she was full and at her max power.

By the time he got home he was in full arousal mode, and his pants hurt him something fierce. He stored his bike in the garage and headed inside locking the door and setting the alarm after him. As he made his way through the darkened house, he shed his clothes: first his belt, then his top. He arrived in his darkened bedroom. Only the silvery light of the moon poured through the windows. He popped open his fly and yanked down the tab, then bent over to pull off his boots and socks. With a shove he pushed down his jeans and underwear and ran to his bedroom. There was no way in hell he’d jerk off in the middle of the hallway. Sweat trickled over his face.

His fox pushed to the surface until pale blond fur obscured his skin. The change took hold. His head throbbed. The ache began in his forehead, then migrated down to around his ears. The smell of stale wood, the pine of the forest, old drywall, dust, and mustiness permeated the air. Thank the goddess he wasn’t around Mysta. He wouldn’t let her suffer through this with him. He rushed to the nightstand and yanked open the drawer. Once he had the lube in hand, he fell onto his bed and rolled to his back.

With his thumb he flicked the top of the lube, squirted out a generous line onto his prick and placed the bottle onto the tabletop. The cool gel slipped over his heated shaft and dribbled onto his balls. With a groan he grabbed his penis and worked his way from root to tip in slow strokes. His blood warmed, and with each tug his desire increased. The world around him blurred. An image of Mysta formed in his mind. Gone were the leggings, boots, jacket, and dress. She was glorious in her nudity. A goddess among women with her gentle curves and the slight roundness of her stomach. Patches of scales appeared here and there. Her eyes had become so dark they were black velvet.

She straddled his legs, wrapped her hands around his, and helped glide his grip up and down in slow, even pulls. With his free hand he fondled his balls. Her small, high breasts shook with every movement of his hand. Their caramel-colored tips were tight points that tempted his mouth to suck and flick. He groaned and allowed his instincts to take over. His hips flexed.

The dream changed. Now he was pushing inside of her. His hold on his shaft tightened and relaxed. The tide rose inside of him. Pressure built, and the fire threatened to consume him. With each stroke he climbed closer to orgasm. Precum slipped over his hand adding to the lubricant, allowing for an easy glide. His fingers played and teased his sac until he could barely touch it anymore. His vision of Mysta’s café au lait skin flushed with a light pink glow, and her body was coated with sweat.

“Come with me, Vik.” Her husky voice rippled over him like silk urging him on.

The tide crashed into him knocking him over and taking him under until he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, and couldn’t process anything but pure bliss, and he came. Once it was over and he lay panting on his bed, the sheets soaked and his body exhausted, his dream of Mysta wavered. She blew him a kiss and blinked out of sight. He wished she had been real, that she had been with him, but they weren’t there yet.

His body and sweat cooled, and his heart rate returned to normal. He wondered when she’d finally get the gumption up to call him. They’d had a breakthrough. Now the ball was in her court.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Mysta awoke on a gasp. The remnants of her dream of Viktor clung to her like a web. She could feel the phantom of a cock driving into her pussy. Her body buzzed as her channel contracted and relaxed. Her juices coated her inner thighs. Tension rode along her limbs as the orgasm worked its way through her body. She gasped and rocked and whimpered. She gripped the sheets tightly until the sensations passed. Her feet flexed. Sweat traced a path along her hairline and slipped over her belly.

On instinct she released the bedclothes, widened her legs, and played her fingers over her mound. Her touch slipped up and down over the plump lips of her labia, but she refused to touch her clit. Just a small tease. Impatience filled her as she continued to tease herself. She imagined her phantom lover was Viktor, touching her, tormenting her with his tongue. The slow laps of the soft yet firm, wet flesh, the quick flirtatious touches. Her toes curled, and her legs tensed. Tension wound tight within her, and her breathing came on in labored gasps.

She could feel that sweet edge, so close and yet so distant. With deep breaths she forced herself to calm down. Her fingertips twitched as she continued to hold still. Her deep breathing bounced back at her. Clear golden light streamed into the windows. The chirp of birds could be heard beyond the glass. Branches scraped against the house. She felt the soft bite of the cool morning air on her skin. The fantasy of making love to Viktor out in the open at the lake drifted through her mind setting the scene. Her flesh pebbled, and her nipples tightened.

She pushed her chest up to her phantom lover at the same time, her free hand lifting and cupping the globe. Together they squeezed. The warmth of his touch filled her, seeping past the levels of her flesh to saturate her muscles, tissue, and blood. She groaned and relaxed and contracted his grip. Spirals of sensation overflowed through her body seeping from her breast outward.

She worked herself, pausing to wet her fingertips with her tongue every now and then before returning to her slow, leisurely work. Her body demanded she move faster, get herself to the peak quicker. She transferred her hand to the neglected breast. This time she pinched, tugged, and rolled her tight nipple setting off a line of fire that shot straight to her pussy. Her hips bucked, and her finger bumped against her clit. Viktor slipped a hand past the waistband of her panties.

“Viktor. Viktor. Viktor,” she whispered. Her hands moved along with her plea doing exactly what she knew the real Viktor would do. When that wasn’t enough, Viktor moved down between her thighs where he yanked down her bottoms and her underwear and lay flat on his stomach on the bed. His breath caressed her pulsing nether lips, and his thumbs parted her labial folds exposing her clit to the air. With soft huffs he blew on the button, then he flicked and strummed the hardened nub. She continued to tease and torment her breasts, her hips rocking up and down against her ministrations.

Higher and higher she climbed until she was gasping, her blood alight and her body on the point of breaking. Her legs trembled. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes. It wasn’t enough, damn it. She wanted the real thing, the flesh and blood man. Stubbornness egged her on. The moment of bliss hung out of reach right in front of her. So close. She clenched her jaw and pushed herself forward, picturing him burying his head between her legs. The sharp scrape of teeth over her vulnerable thickened lips sent shock waves through her. His canines played over the top of her clit, setting off a mini orgasm that stole her breath. Not enough.

“Please,” she muttered to the air.

Her magic sparked to life rushing over her skin, a silken brush that pulled a moan from her. Her power added weight and increased the pressure of her touch. A tidal wave of desire slammed into her. She sucked in a breath as her heart hammered against her rib cage. Her vaginal walls contracted. Moisture coated her thighs. She gripped her breast so tight it hurt. The pain only increased her arousal. In her dream Viktor sucked her clit into his mouth while he plunged his digits into her dripping pussy. The place where he’d bitten her pulsed to life. She scented him in the air. His presence pressed against her sweat-coated body.

Viktor whispered her name just as the dam broke and she came. Her body stilled. She held on to the pure bliss that washed over her. Every inch of her was alive and aware. She was one with all the elements and them with her. Her magic burst above her like fireworks filling the room with colored lights. Viktor’s name came out as a strained cry.

With a gasp she fell to the bed. Sweat soaked the sheets, and her breaths came out in puffs. Her head swam, and her vision blurred.

The door burst open.

“Mysta, do you want any coffee… Whoa! Sorry. Sorry.”

Mysta lifted her head a fraction of an inch, just in time to see the door slam shut.

“I’ll, uh, meet you downstairs in the kitchen,” Malcolm called through the wood. His heavy tread clomped away from her room and down the stairs.

She didn’t have the energy to move, yell at him, or even blink. The pleasure continued to ricochet around her.

Sensation returned in stages until she could move her feet and lift her limbs. Lassitude rippled over her arms and legs, but she got out of bed and headed to the bathroom. She took a quick shower, then threw on some sweats and walked downstairs to the kitchen.

Malcolm stood at the stove with his back to her cooking what looked like omelets. He glanced over his shoulder, then turned back to the pan. “I promise not to tell anyone I saw you nekkid or jilling off.”

“Don’t care at the moment. Give me a few hours, and I might freak out.” A glance at the clock showed she had at least an hour to kill before going into the office. She took a few moments to watch him. Today would be the day to talk to Bridget about Malcolm, but first she had to know something. “So, are you going to tell me why you’re here in Evenfall?”

Malcolm turned around, set a cup of The Java Demon’s signature Demon’s Blend coffee down next to him, and went back to cooking.

“Fine.” He gave her a dark grin. “I’m here because I want the best helping me. I knew that Viktor worked in the library. I knew he was your ex. I wanted to see if he could use his pull to convince you to let me meet Bridget. As a bonus, the witch who cursed me lives here in town.”

“Okay.” Rather than get pissed off before she’d had her full amount of coffee she decided to hear him out. Part of her riled at how sneaky he’d been. Drunken D&D her ass!

“I met with Deidre day before I came and met Vik. Asked her if she was willing to reverse the curse.”

Mysta opened her mouth, but he held up a hand. “I know, I know. I just wanted to see. No trouble in asking, right? I doubted she’d do it, but I wanted to try. No dice, so I met Vik the next night.”

She turned over this new information. “Thanks for being honest. I’ll try to help you, but we have a big case load going on.” Small lie but still she wasn’t about to spill on the rogue vampire they were keeping at the office.

“You mean that spy for The Great Bloodstorm? Already heard about that.” He slid the food onto two plates, grabbed some forks from the drain board, and served one fork to her and sat down across from her.

“Just how many people know about this?” She had to warn Bridget in case there was trouble.

“Only the drunks over at the Goblin’s Prick. Moron was in there last night bragging. No one took him seriously.” A smirk curled his lips.

“Damn small towns and the rumor mill,” she grumbled.

“Yeah, well The Great Blood Drizzle will have his head handed to him along with his ass. I’ve seen Joe fight, and let me tell you, he can be vicious when it comes to protecting what is his.” Malcolm’s smirk turned into an evil grin. “If he wasn’t a bloodsucker I’d think he was a demon.” Malcolm settled down and dug in.

She snorted. “You wish.”

“So you still want to help me?” His features brightened.

She pointed at him. “I’ll ask Bridget. No promises. Does Viktor know?”

Malcolm nodded “Yeah. He’s a good friend, but I don’t want to drag him any deeper into this beyond him knowing why I’m here.”

“Okay, good.” Silence fell between them. Mysta glanced around the kitchen. Every inch of the counter, fridge, and stove gleamed. Even the windows sparkled. The place looked just as good as the day she’d moved in. “So far you’ve been a good house guest even if you eat more than me, Lana, and Vivi combined, so you’re going to have to chip in with expenses, got it? I’m not made out of money.”

Malcolm frowned. “But the pay from the Union and your job with Bridget? This house?”

“I live here rent free. Bridget owns the properties. I may not pay rent, but I do pay for gas, groceries, utilities, etcetera. That adds up in a small town like ours that runs on magic and eco-friendly sources.” She slouched on her stool. “Our bills may be lower than other places, but I’m not exactly flush like Sera or Bridget. Lana and I have to budget things, and I’m saving up.” She checked her watch. “I have to go. Thanks for breakfast and coffee.”

She finished the last of the omelet, got up, and put her plates away and rushed upstairs. After a quick change, she checked her schedule on her phone and headed out.

Malcolm was doing the dishes as she passed by the kitchen area. “You do know I have a dishwasher right?” She slipped her arm through the strap of her messenger bag and grabbed her keys.

He didn’t turn around. “Yeah, but I don’t mind doing them. See you later. Maybe a veggie lasagna for dinner?”

She frowned. “Carnivore, remember?”

“Healthier option, but I’ll include meat. Go, make the bacon.”

“You’re obsessed with bacon, aren’t you?” Mysta resisted the urge to smile.

“Isn’t everyone? And thanks, I really appreciate it.”

“They should be, and you’re welcome.” With a smile she was out the door.

It was a sunny, clear day. She savored the warmth on her skin and the gentle breeze against her face.

The change in scenery from residential-lined streets to the start of Main Street was marked with less decorations and more stores. Mom and Pop shops, from Karin’s Flower Shop to Doug’s Fat Worm Bait and Tackle Shop and The Java Demon in the center of town, formed the middle of the main drag through town. A park sat not far from her office. The remnants of the fireworks display and party were in full evidence with all the confetti and parts of costumes strewn around even a day later. From what she’d heard the cleaning crews had spent far too much time tackling the giant snail from the young warlocks at the library.

She slipped down the alleyway between Bridget’s office and the neighboring photographer’s shop and behind the building to let herself in through the back entrance. Here everything remained clean and neat. Only a bit of confetti could be seen. Being the first one in showed. No one had arrived yet. Their neighbors wouldn’t be opening their shops until tomorrow.

She puttered around, following the usual morning routine. First, put coffee on for clients—Bridget, Sera, Lana, and Mysta never actually drank the office java if they could help it. Second, check the schedule to make sure they were on target for meeting clients’ deadlines. Third, water the plants. Fourth, open the front door.

She had just unlocked the entrance when her phone rang.

“Hello?” She settled down on the padded bench Lana kept in her little plant alcove.

“Hey, Mys, it’s Karolina. Mom and Dad are taking me to Evenfall for an interview today. Do you have time to meet with us?”

Lina’s tone was careful, neutral, but Mysta detected the hope there. It had been a year since she’d seen her sibling, since studying for the familiar testing took up a lot of time and didn’t leave much of a social life outside of Arbor Town.

“Hey, Lina. Yeah, what time?” She took in the various pots and gardening tools. They all looked brand-new despite only being a year old. Lana had been working her magic again to make them pristine. They would need to have a talk about personal magic. There was always a price for using magic for personal use. She could just hear the list of excuses Lana would come up with. But it benefits everyone because we don’t have to buy new tools. And tease karma? No thank you.

“Dinner time?” Lina’s voice went up on the last word.

Mysta thought it over. Viktor hadn’t interacted with her family back in Arbor Town; she had seen to it. There was no way she would allow him to bring his ideas of what her family was doing to her into her home. Looking back, she could see she had done things the wrong way. If she had allowed him to speak to her parents, her family, maybe he wouldn’t have gotten the ideas he had. She’d been so scared of confrontation she’d compartmentalized her life even more than she already had. Maybe having him talk to the people who mattered the world to her might help clear the fog just a bit. After how understanding and supportive Viktor had been at the picnic she wanted to try to merge the two lives she’d kept separate out of fear and doubt. If they were to have any kind of relationship he would have to get along with not only her friends but her family as well.

“Can I bring someone?” She blurted the question out before she lost her nerve. Her heart hammered and sweat dampened her palms.

Lina’s tone brightened. “Oh! Bringing someone to meet Mom and Dad? Sweet! Sure, bring anyone you want. Maybe even Bridget, Sera, and Lana?”

Relief filled her. “You just want magic tips, don’t you?” Mysta teased.

“I’m so nervous, sis. They changed the test after you took it. I’ve heard that some families are going to be using the test responses and scores in their interviews. I know I passed, but still what if I wasn’t thorough enough in my knowledge parts or I didn’t show enough of my work for the spell section?” Lina’s tone shook. “There’s a whole new section on black magic, and they redid the practical magic questions. Right now Mom and Dad are taking me to talk to families before I get my results.”

Mysta smiled, remembering the hoops she’d had to jump through before she’d been paired up with Bridget. It would be easier for Lina now. Everything that she’d gone through, the denial of life, the long, isolated hours, had brought her family to this moment.

“Did they change the rules for pre-testing interviews too?” Mysta hoped so. She didn’t want her family to get in trouble for trying to find a witch or wizard to match Lina up with before she was certified.

“Yeah, people lobbied for it and we won! It’s so awesome. They’re making more changes, to be announced. It’ll be great, sis. Listen, I gotta go. Mom and Dad are going to take me to the Fairy’s Table Family Restaurant when we get to town. See you there?” In the background Mysta could hear her mother calling to Lina.

“Go, it’s okay. Give my love to Mom and Dad. And yeah, I’ll be there.” Mysta hung up her phone and started going through receipts, checking to see the status of what they’d ordered. They were scheduled to do a batch of quick potions to make up for their depleted stock. And there was still more research to do on hobgoblins for that client.

Bridget strode in fifteen minutes later and dropped her bag on the floor, peeled off her jacket, and hung it up. She unwound her scarf from her neck, revealing a bruise and two puncture marks.

“Today we’re working on hex deterrents, a mixture for protecting a room and a few extra defensive tonics for emergencies. I’m exhausted just saying all that. I tell you, if they didn’t feed me I’d be at home dead to the world. Feeding a vampire is so exhausting, but it has its benefits. So, what’s shaking, snaky?” She gestured for Mysta to follow her. They walked down the hall, past the warded room into the potions spaces. Unlike most witches, Bridget made her brews and spells in separate areas. “Please tell me we have doughnuts or at least some sort of pastries around?”

“No delivery yet.” Mysta cursed herself for forgetting to call the bakery. “I’ll call when we take a break.”

Bridget pouted. “Okay, so, why are you in so early? Are you finally going to organize that stuff from the estate sale instead of staring at it and drooling and clapping your hands like a demented toy monkey? ’Cause I’ve been meaning to tell you how creepy that is. Is it Viktor? Do I have to hex him into behaving?” Bridget grinned. Despite the clear signs of tiredness, she seemed in high spirits.

“No, he and I are okay. I just wanted to get here before everyone else, to talk to you about a friend of Viktor’s named Malcolm. He’s a hellhound.” Mysta explained Malcolm’s story and their current living arrangements. “Malcolm needs help finding a match. He may not be a born familiar but he wants to go for it.”

“He does dishes and actually cleans up? How clean are we talking?” Bridget grabbed some empty bottles of water. “Mr. Clean clean? Or, you can eat off the floor clean? Or I just shoved shit into drawers clean? As far as matchmaking goes, I can put in a few calls to people but no guarantee. There may be issues of his bloodline, you know the usual crap. Just don’t get your hopes you, okay?”

Mysta nodded. She knew the process, knew how the Council could be. “Okay.” Mysta grabbed jars of ingredients off the shelves and pulled stirring instruments out of their drawers.

“Good.” Bridget pulled books off the shelf and stacked them next to the jugs. “Can you get the fires going?”

“Yeah.” Mysta drew on her magic, channeling the power from the center of her chest to course over her shoulders, down her arms, and through her hands until her fingertips tingled. With a snap of her fingers, a small flame sparked to life at the tips of her nails. She turned the knobs on the mini stoves they had set up and lit the gas rings one by one until all six were flickering circles of blue light. She snapped her fingers again. The flame went out. She drew her magic back into her core.

“Are you thinking of cutting your cleaning company loose?” Mysta wanted to know. It wouldn’t be the first time Bridget had fired the people she used. “And thanks, he’d appreciate it.”

“No problem. Maybe. Actually, Joe could use someone. Not for cleaning, but a hellhound in service to the local vampire liege could spark up some serious mojo points with the other lieges.” A dark grin painted Bridget’s red lips. She arranged the jars at evenly spaced intervals between them on the counter and flipped open a tome.

“Loaded day. We’ll eat sometime, right?” Mysta snorted. “I’ll talk to Malcolm, but I’m not sure how he could help Joe. He needs to dump his magical overload pretty badly.” Mysta opened drawers and pulled out utensils, placing them next to the urns they were to be used with. Each brew had to have their own bowls, stirring wands, toppers, charms, and labels.

Bridget shook her head. “With the full moon coming there will be a lot of that going around. I’ll see what I can do. What does he want?” She pulled out a few recipe cards and placed them next to the arrangements.

Mysta explained Malcolm’s situation while she lit a white candle.

“Interesting and he is a fully certified familiar?” More speculation glittered in Bridget’s eyes. She stepped back. “Looks good.”

“As far as I know, yes. Are we ready to go?” Sometimes it took Bridget a moment before she used her craft.

“Liar. You don’t know. Get him tested. I’ll need to see his mark. Bring him in after the full moon when things are calm, and I’ll start the process. I can think up a few people.” Bridget pressed her lips together, and her eyes lost their focus. Her magic floated onto the air, a light breeze of power that caused goose bumps to rise on Mysta’s skin.

She smelled earth, fire, air, water, and something dark and heavy. Her own magic responded. The coolness of water ghosted over her face as a fire simmered in her gut, and earth held her steady to the ground. Her fingertips prickled. Her skin tingled, her face became flushed, her nipples tightened, and her stomach muscles clenched. A soft arousal settled over her, reminding her of the dream she’d had about Viktor. She swallowed.

“He’s a picky one. He’ll want a woman, and he’ll want her curvy.” Mysta felt that she had to add that tidbit in. Otherwise he may raise up the alarm. Focusing that helped to ignore the poignant side effects of beginning craft work.

“Me curvy.” Bridget pointed at her herself. “Or more curves?” She made an hourglass shape in the air with her hands.

“More.”

“I know of three witches matching that description. How old is he? I may not have to consult the old biddies after all.” Bridget grinned. “The matchmaking sect would be disappointed. Are you ready?”

“Malcolm looks to be in his mid-thirties, but you can’t go by that with the Underworld set. And yes, I am.”

Bridget closed her eyes and pressed her palms together over her heart. “We ask for the gods’ and goddesses’ blessings for the working we are about to undertake. May you guide our hands and open our hearts. Theses potions are meant to help rather than harm. We enter this process with an open mind and heart. Blessed be, and so mote it be.” She bowed her head.

Mysta felt the world around them stabilize. Her senses expanded beyond the room. She became aware of Lana flitting around in the visitor’s area and Sera at her desk. Mysta retreated and refocused on what would be going on in this space.

“Let’s get to work.” Bridget tugged the ingredients toward her and began measuring them out into bowls. “So, how does he feel about young? What about fresh out of witch college?” Bridget’s eyes were hard and focused.

Mysta thought it over as she handed her a bottle of peacock feathers. “Nope, too young, too fresh. Older.”

“Mid-thirties to forty, okay?” Bridget took the measuring cup and poured the feathers into a bottle.

Mysta took her time in answering. “Probably. I think he wants someone who knows her mind and isn’t flighty. Stability.”

“I’ll throw in the twenty-year-old for good measure, but I have three candidates. One is in her early thirties, and the other just turned forty.” Bridget’s features shuttered, her lips pressed to a thin line, and her eyes darkened with fire. But Bridget didn’t get angry. Emotions could spoil a potion faster than leaving it on the flame too long or not stirring enough.

“I’m not going to ask what happened.” There were three reasons someone in her thirties or forties didn’t have a familiar. Either a, they hadn’t found someone compatible with their magic, b, they had just lost their familiar or c, they were too high maintenance and their familiar had left them. All three options were sad, and she could only think of how the magical world had treated the two older witches.

“Pass the milk of chimera.” She accepted the jar from Mysta and used a dropper to add two drops in the bottle with the peacock feathers. “There.”

“Oh, one more thing. Family is coming in to for my sister to start looking for families to fit with. She’s invited you and Sera and Lana to dinner. Can you make it?”

“Not tonight. Joe and I have a date. He’s going to start teaching me how to play poker.” Bridget preened.

Mysta rolled her eyes. “Bridget, Lana keeps offering…” She focused on squeezing a few drops of dragon saliva into a mixture.

“The evil little pixie cheats! Okay, enough chatter. Let’s concentrate. This next part’s a bit tricky.” Bridget dropped a scoop of butterfly scales into a bowl of cobra venom. There was a puff of smoke. Acrid cologne drifted up onto the air making both women cough.

Mysta and Bridget waited to see if a fire would start like the last time they tried to mix the two ingredients together with dragon eyelashes. Sweat pearled on Mysta’s brow, and Bridget stared at the brew with interest. The potion turned a deep violet before it became clear. Both women exhaled.

“Whew, let’s move on.” Bridget put the concoction on the fire and drew the next set of vials, bowls, and utensils toward her. “This one is for defense.”

“Okay.” Mysta flipped the pages of the tome to the spell. She read through the list of ingredients and began measuring them out while Bridget stirred the cauldron with the first potion in it. Questions nagged Mysta. “Bridget, have you ever been torn between duty and love?”

Bridget looked up. “Nope, love wins out over family duty.”

She stopped what she was doing to study Bridget’s face. “But I never—”

Bridget rolled her eyes. “Please, you don’t think I didn’t know about Viktor? Or the pressure you were under to become a familiar? Look, Mysta, I love you, you’re a sister to me. You are not only one of my familiars but also one of my best friends. I’m just going to be honest with you. Family, we can’t get rid of. They are tied to us by blood but love, that, you can choose to accept it or keep running from it. I tried running from my attraction to Joe, and I’m not saying I’m in love with him, but I do have feelings for him. Do you have feelings for Viktor?”

Mysta bobbed her head.

“No, say it. Out. Loud,” Bridget ordered.

There was no use denying it. “Yes, I do.”

“Good. See where it goes but take it slow. I know romantic relationships are new to you, and they can be terrifying but don’t rush, okay? You don’t have to know everything. There are no texts to memorize or books to consult. You’ll have to wing it, but know we’ll be there for you regardless of what happens. I’d hug you, but I’m covered in pixie dust.” Glimmering powder coated Bridget’s top and jeans.

Mysta grinned. “No hug needed. Thanks.” She had really lucked out where friends were concerned.

“Okay, enough of this. We have two more potions to brew and then paperwork to handle. And you”—Bridget pointed at Mysta—“have to get into the upstairs rooms and start organizing things. If it were up to Sera she’d burn it and be done with it. You went nuts at that estate sale. We need to debug and de-charm everything, and that will take a while. So call in some help. Maybe Ariel and Vivi, and maybe include Viktor in all the organizing fun?”

Mysta thought about it. “Maybe we can share some of the manuscripts, curry favor with Shevon?”

Bridget wiped some sweat away with the back of her hand, smearing some of the dust across her forehead. “Sure, why not. Damn it, it’s just like glitter. Can you…?” She pushed her head forward and nodded toward a clean rag.

Mysta dampened the rag in the sink and blotted at the sparkling dust, but a sheen remained.

Bridget groaned. “Damn, I’m going to have to ask Lana to clear it away. She’ll laugh her ass off. Okay, let’s get back to work.”

They fell back into a rhythm. By the time Mysta’s stomach growled, two and half hours had passed. Sweat bathed her face, blurring her vision.

“Break time,” Bridget announced. “Last potion we have to do is for the hexes, but I can do that on my own.”

Mysta left the workroom while Bridget remained to stir the potion. She found some doughnuts and muffins left over in the visitor’s area and decided to risk drinking coffee from the pot.

Sera was sitting at her desk, squinting at her computer screen. She glanced up and called Mysta over. “Mysta, can you come with me? I need you to act as backup for me. Lana, stay here and hold the fort. Don’t get into my chocolate stash. I’ll know.”

Lana grinned. “No you won’t. Good luck.”

Mysta pulled her from the building and out onto the sidewalk to avoid Sera and Lana’s banter. “No sense in arguing with her. You’ll lose. Now what’s going on?”

Sera twisted the hem of her shirt. “I’ve decided to challenge my mother for control of the leap, of my black leopard family. I’ve heard some really bad things from a few members, things that overall hurt us. Something needs to be done. I haven’t told Vivi yet. I want to confront my mother first, see how she reacts.” Fear and anger filled Sera’s face.

Mysta whistled. This was the first she’d heard of a friend wanting to change up the status quo. She grabbed Sera’s hand, and they began walking toward the affluent feline shifter part in the north of town. “You don’t want much, do you? Are you sure you want to do this?”

They turned onto the street where Sera’s mother lived. Mysta glanced over to see tears slipping down Sera’s cheeks.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Mysta stopped and grabbed Sera’s shoulders. She turned Sera toward her. “What’s up?”

“It’s the end of a long period of my life. My mother has been grooming me to take over when she steps down, but now…now…it’ll be over. My mother will be so disappointed.” The droplets increased. It was as if a dam had broken, and she couldn’t stop the flood. She dropped to the ground. “I-I…won’t be her perfect daughter,” she managed to get out through hiccups and sobs.

Mysta knelt next to her and brushed away the tears. Damn Francie for making Sera cry. “It’s okay, Sera. It’ll be okay.”

“I love her, even if she is a bitch. She’s my mom and…” The words trailed off. “What would my father say? I’m betraying the leap, aren’t I? Choosing you and Bridget and Lana over my own kind. I’m… What kind of black panther am I to do this to my people? What if I’m making the wrong decisions? What if she gets hurt or killed or—”

Mysta slapped Sera’s cheek. The shock wave rocked up her arm, and pain burst in her palm.

Sera grabbed her cheek and gaped at her. “Mysta. What the fuck? Why'd you slap me?” Sera’s eyes were wide with shock, though not hurt.

“Whine, whine, whine. Stop it. Your mother is a heartless bitch who has been controlling you and Vivi for most of your lives. Yes, she’s a relative, but you know better. You’ve heard it from the bitch’s mouth. Dina has no reason to lie. She’s from one of the most affluent families in the leap. She knows what would happen if word got back to your mother. And even if you do love her, do you want your people to suffer from your mother’s neglect and selfishness? From her stealing the money they worked so hard to make and contributing to improve the lives of your people? You may not want to rule, but that doesn’t mean you have to betray them in order to be happy. It’s not as if you’re abandoning them. You can be part of the quorum if you want to, right?”

“Well…yes.” Sera’s voice trailed off. Mysta heard the small hesitation.

“So shut up.” Mysta rose and started walking. Mysta knew she sounded bratty, but when it came to Sera’s family issues it brought out the worst in her. She hated seeing someone so great as Sera be ripped down like that by anyone.

Sera rushed to catch up. “You know you’re a real bitch, right?”

“Yeah, but I care about you. Your mother doesn’t. I watched the damage she inflicted on you and said nothing. Now that you’re being proactive about your life and happiness, I won’t let you run away from that, got it? You and Vivi deserve better.” Mysta decided now was as good a time as any to come clean with Sera now instead of possibly being blindsided by Francine. “By the way, Vivi was crashing with me, not the dragon brothers, but now she’s returned to your mother. For some reason she’s avoiding those sexy dragon boys.”

“I know about Vivi. She told me. And it’s her Lunar Lust.” Sera blushed. “Can’t you feel it?”

“Ah, yeah, um, snake shifters don’t really get that,” Mysta lied. “Not as bad as you and the wolves and others do. We don’t want to fuck, anyway. We just want to be left alone.” Despite her tight friendship with everyone, there were some things she wouldn’t tell anyone about her kind.

Sera frowned. “So then what happened with the fox?”

“Stuff. I don’t want to get into it. Anyway, here we are.” Mysta didn’t want to get into it with her friend out in the open where anyone could hear.

They made their way up the flagstone path. Mysta eyed the lawn. Such a perfectly manicured garden. Too bad she couldn’t set it on fire. Not a weed to be seen or a lawn ornament out of place. Everything looked as though it belonged together. The whitewashed clapboard Victorian with the slate-gray porch was austere with only a swing chair and mailbox as decoration.

The door opened as they reached the first step. Francine stood in the entryway, an older, thinner, sharper version of Sera with hard dark brown eyes that held no emotion, only judgment. Tension pinched her sharpened features and turned her full lips into a thin line of pink.

“Mother.” Sera’s tone was respectful, but so much tension rippled from her that Mysta hoped only she heard. Francine would rip her daughter apart if she thought Sera was scared or stressed just meeting with her.

Francine’s lips thinned. Her nostrils flared. She glared at Mysta. “Leave your pet snake outside. We have to talk.”

Mysta refused to give Francine any sort of reaction.

“She comes in with me,” Sera said, “or we do this out here where your neighbors can listen in.”

Francine sniffed. “Fine. I wouldn’t want to give a show to the neighbors. Wipe your feet.” Francine turned away, and entered the house.

Mysta glanced back at Sera. “You heard her. Wipe your feet.”

Francine muttered, “Impudent half breed filth.”

Mysta followed Francine up the steps, making a show of running the soles of her shoes on the welcome mat before she entered the house and the living room area. Anything to piss Francine off. If the stuck-up priss wanted to insult her, she wouldn’t take the bait. Her snake hissed in displeasure at not being let out.

Sera took a seat on the powder-blue couch and leaned forward. As much as she’d love to irk Francine by dirtying her precious ancient furniture with her derriere, Mysta didn’t bother. Acting as a bodyguard, she took her place to the left side of Sera.

Francine sat down on an ugly-as-hell wingback chair covered in gold-colored leather that Mysta wanted to burn on sight.

Sera folded her arms over her chest. “Well? Tell me why you’re stealing money from the very people who elected you to the role of leadership. Why are you keeping down the very people who helped you rise to your current position, and why are you betraying us to feed your selfish needs and rewarding your yes people with expensive trips and clothes and luxury items?”

Francine didn’t even blink. Sera took a breath. “Mother, a change needs to happen. The leap is stagnant, and you’re part of the problem.” Sera tensed as if waiting for her mother to take physical action. Mysta called on her magic, ready to act should that happen.

“The leap? What do you know about the leap? When did you start caring about your people? You’ve turned your back on us for your demons and your witches and your pets.” Venom dripped from Francine’s words.

Mysta clenched her jaw and grabbed Sera’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. Sera peeked over at Mysta with a small smile, then refocused on her mother once more.

“I met with a few of the leap today.”

“Who? Dina? Please. Her family can always bail her out. But that’s what she gets for going out on her own.” Francine waved her hand, brushing off Sera’s accusation.

Sera lifted her chin but didn’t growl or show any sign of anger. She remained still, her face a blank mask. Mysta felt pride in her friend.

“Yes, Dina and others. But that’s one of many problems. Do you deny having a suitor lined up for Vivi?” Sera shifted in her seat, moving forward only to stop and resume her previous posture.

Francine snorted. “Vivi doesn’t know what’s good for her. I do. Just like I knew what was good for you. You had to go and ruin it all.”

“Why? Because I didn’t want to live your life with your ideal black leopard shifter? Your pure-blooded prince? Because I wanted to make my own choices and live and fail on them? Because I wanted to be happy? Vivi and I aren’t the only ones suffering. Ask your leap! They’re hurting.” Sera waved a hand in the air, the mask slipping to reveal frustration. Anger sparked in her eyes. “What about the day care center set up to help the working mothers of the leap? Where is the money for that? What about the big breast-cancer fund-raiser? Where did that money go? What about those private jets and trips to the Bahamas? The cars and clothes?” Sera punctuated every query by pointing at Francine. “You need to straighten your house, Mother, and the only way I can see is to call for a battle royale. As a member of the ruling family I have that right. I came here to be fair and tell you before it’s done so you can prepare. I will be announcing it at the full moon. Be ready.”

Silence. Fury filled every line of Francine’s face. Her body shook with rage, but to her credit she didn’t get up or lash out physically or shift.

Sera rose, smoothed her shirt and skirt down, chin held high, gaze on her mother, ready to leave, but Mysta didn’t move. “I’m sorry it had to come to this, but if we are to survive, if Vivi and I are to survive and be happy, this needs to be done.”

“I never wanted you, and I never wanted to marry your father,” Francine hissed. “I wanted a son, and I wanted someone else. But I made do. You and your ungrateful half-breed of a sister will pay the price once I’m out of power. Once I’m gone there will be no one to protect you. No one will care. Your demons, your witch, your pets—none of them will stand by you.”

Mysta cleared her throat. “Actually that’s where you’re wrong. But then I don’t expect you to listen to a pet. Good luck, Francie. You’ll need it. Come on.”

Mysta led her friend out of the house. Sera didn’t protest. Exhaustion showed clear on her face. Once outside Mysta took in a deep lungful of air. She grabbed Sera’s hand and walked her down to the end of the pathway where she stopped.

“Thanks,” Sera whispered. Now she shook. Fear covered her face.

Mysta reached out and patted her on the shoulder. “Do you know how long I’ve been dying to call her Francie? I should be thanking you. Now let’s go. I need a shower from being in that house, and you need your men, am I right?”

“I do need Carver and Thorn but after work. I need to finish up at the office.” Sera turned and gave Mysta a gentle hug. She pulled away from her before Mysta could protest that it had gone on too long. “Thanks again.”

Mysta and Sera started walking back toward Main Street and back to work. They traveled in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Mysta didn’t want to push Sera into talking. Sometimes support was a better choice than trying to get a person to open up during a tense situation.

They arrived at the office to find smoke billowing out of the open front door. Lana and Bridget stood out front, waving away the dark gray plumes and coughing.

Mysta and Sera rushed up to them. “What the hell happened?” Mysta demanded.

“Used too much eye of newt. Or maybe my batch had gone bad.” Bridget wiped away the tears from her eyes.

The afternoon wore on. Firemen moved in and out of the building, checking on fire damage. Mysta and the group talked with their neighbors, drank cups of coffee from The Java Demon, and took calls on their cell phones, assuring both clients and friends that they were fine as they waited for the all clear. Every few minutes Mysta checked the fireman’s progress.

Three hours later the women were given the all clear to go back inside. Acrid smoke scented the office making everyone cough. The sour tang of spell ingredients gone bad hung on the cloth. Mysta, Sera, Lana, and Bridget opened all the windows, the back door and kept the front entrance open to help get rid of the aroma.

Mysta called the cleaning crew they used to come in right now to get started on mopping, scrubbing, and washing the walls. Within ten minutes of the request, the cleaners arrived and set to work. Bridget took inventory of the workroom while Mysta, Sera, and Lana sat around talking, unable to do anything until the cleaning crew finished with the office.

Mysta decided that she should take this moment to ask Sera and Lana about the dinner invite. She cleared her throat. “Okay, so today is dinner with my family. My sister is coming in to do some pre-test interviews. You guys are invited.”

Lana shook her head. “I have a date with the gargoyle boys.” She cackled. “I’m gonna beat their asses at strip poker.”

Sera grinned so wide it hurt to look at her. “I have a date with my demons. I need it after this afternoon.” Sera’s face lit up. If the demons could put a smile on her face who was Mysta to hold a grudge, although trusting them fully was another matter.

“Do you think I should try Bridget again?” Now she didn’t want to be alone with Viktor and her family for fear a fight may break out. Her heartbeat picked up speed, pounding out an erratic rhythm against her rib cage.

“Nope, Joe. So you get to deal with your family on your own, my little snakelet. I only wish I was there to watch you squirm when they ask you all sorts of embarrassing questions and your mom remarks on whether you’ve gained or lost weight.” Sera’s tone was sweet, but it brooked no argument. “Now, we have to get back to work, and can you start sorting some of those scrolls and books you got at that estate sale? Bridget may have forgotten but I didn’t.”

Mysta frowned. “She didn’t forget. She asked me to do it. Wanna help?” She hoped Lana would say yes. There were so many books. As much as she loved them, maybe she’d gone overboard in spending the boss’s money.

“Nope, not unless you have a dragon egg hidden under all those stacks of paper and books.” Lana flew off leaving Mysta alone.

“We are not getting a baby dragon!” Bridget yelled from the brew room.

“Bitch!” Lana responded.

Mysta trudged to the back of the building. The fire had been contained in the workroom. Only the scent of lavender air freshener and smoke drifted on the air.

She climbed up the stairs and opened the door to the apartment over the office. None of the staff used it although there had been talk of hiring someone to watch over the place during the nighttime. Almost all of their valuable artifacts, books, and information was kept at Bridget’s house, but what they needed immediate access to they kept here. She flicked on the light switch and winced. Unlabeled boxes sat all over the room in no particular order, piled up to the ceiling. With a sigh she got to work.

By the time she needed to leave for dinner she was hot and sweaty, and her muscles ached in places she didn’t want to think about. Her mind had continued to ruminate on what she needed to do with Viktor while she worked, and she knew that she didn’t want to see him leave, not after what they’d started, but it would be a while before she could fully let down her guard with him. Old habits died hard. Even though he’d searched her out and found her, she still had a long way to go before she could truly give all of herself to him. Tonight would be a start. Why couldn’t life and love come with a manual? Or at least a cheater’s guide?

CHAPTER TWELVE

Viktor settled down in his bucket-of-a-flea-market-find sofa, a beer on the arm and a football game playing on a flat screen he’d gotten on Black Friday. Malcolm sat across from him in an overpadded, overcushioned chair that swallowed his tall, muscular frame. It felt wonderful to have a day off and relax at home.

His phone chirped from its place on his side table. He grabbed it and checked the Caller ID, praying it wasn’t Shevon asking him to work the noon shift aka kiddie story time. He liked kids just fine, just not the ones who came during story time. Sticky fingers that needed to touch everything, running around and refusing to sit down, the know-it-all who had to tell him she/he already knew that part and that he should read something else.

The readout said Mysta. Grinning, he answered it. She really had called him.

“Hey, sugar, what’s up?” He was glad that his voice hadn’t gone high-pitched.

“Hi, um, my parents are in town. My sister has a few pre-match interviews and we’re having dinner. Um, do you want to join us?” Fear and hope filled her tone.

“Yes, I would love to. I won’t bring the hellhound, promise.” He gave Malcolm a thumbs-up.

“So he’s with you? Good. Okay, I'll call you with the time and place. See you later. Bye.” She hung up before he could respond.

He grinned. A thrill raced through his heart. “She invited me to dinner.” He put his phone back on the table.

“So what are you going to wear? You have to make a good impression so they’ll let you date her.” Malcolm’s lips quirked into a sardonic smile.

“Let? Fuck no. No one lets me or her do anything. She chooses.” A bit of old anger leaked into his body. He tensed.

“Whoa, whoa, calm down. I wasn’t trying to pick a fight.” Malcolm held up his hands. “Bad blood?”

Viktor shook his head. “I don’t know anymore, but based on what she’s told me I can’t help get a bit riled up over old hurts. It wasn’t her family keeping us apart. It was her, the pressure she was under.”

Malcolm held up a hand. “And remember you had a deal. Now you can start again. Go slow, my friend.”

Viktor turned over the words in his mind. “Yeah. I can do that because she’s worth it.”

“So, this the first time you’re officially meeting the in-laws?” Speculation glittered in Malcolm’s gaze. Viktor ignored it.

“Yeah. I went out of my way to avoid them. I didn’t want to make trouble for her.”

“You mean you didn’t want to see if you were wrong about them.” Again that damn cynical grin.

“Bastard. No. I knew their type. Had seen it before. You try living in a town that breeds familiars and being one of the few actual shifters around. It’s freaky. The magic floating around could choke a rhino shifter.” Viktor shuddered.

Malcolm’s thick dark brow rose. “Do we have an issue with familiars?”

Viktor sighed. “I used to…” He paused. “I just… Basic shifters were treated like shit in Arbor Town. And the old families were horrible to my kind.”

“And yet you fell for Mysta,” Malcolm murmured. His words stung like barbs.

“Yeah, I did. I knew right away she was meant for me. Ironic right?” Viktor couldn’t help but chuckle at how fate worked.

“You never told me about your issues with familiars.”

Malcolm’s words hit him in the gut. “Just certain familiars.”

Malcolm shook his head. “Either you have issues with us or not. I may not have been born one, but I am one now, and I take issue with it.”

“I know, not all shifters are like the old families, but after years of verbal abuse from them sometimes I can’t see things clearly.” Viktor’s heart weighed like a stone in his chest. Was that why he had refused to listen to Mysta?

“Then maybe, you should tell her and her parents that. Jesus, you both are so cute. You two need to fucking talk. And I thought a kiss would help you. Shows what I know. Three hundred and fifty years old, don’t look a day over thirty-five, and you guys still surprise me.” He checked his watch. “Shit. I gotta go. I’ve agreed to help Lana learn to cook. She wants to make a meal without burning shit. She’s telling everyone she’s got a date.” He grinned. “Cute little pixie. Too bad she’s not my type.” Malcolm struggled to get out of the chair. “A little help, here? Your chair is trying to eat my ass.”

Viktor laughed and pulled Malcolm out of the seat. “Sorry, gotta rip it open and try again.”

“Or take it to a professional.” Malcolm grabbed Viktor’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Just talk to her, okay?”

Viktor nodded. “Yeah, I’ll do that.” He shut the door on his friend. An ache started in the center of his chest. He’d hear Mysta’s family out, but he wouldn’t promise anything.

He went to his closet and chose a forest-green button-down shirt and khakis. Unlike Malcolm, who had the bad-boy look down and was a secret clothes whore, Viktor only had three pairs of jeans, two khaki pants, and a few nice button-down tops. The rest were Henleys and T-shirts. He took a quick shower, shaved, and dressed.

His phone rang. The Caller ID read Mysta. He answered it.

“Hey, Mysta. I’m ready to go. Where should I meet you?”

“We’ll be at the Fairy’s Table Family Restaurant.” Someone called her name. “I gotta go. I’ll see you soon.”

He thought back to all the times he’d visited town and tried to remember which side of town the Fairy’s Table was located at. At the start of Main Street and within walking distance of his house. Rather than take his bike he decided to walk to town.

He regretted his choice as soon as he arrived at the Fairy’s Table Family Restaurant. It was one of those weird warm fall days where the temperature was in the eighties rather than a nice and cool seventy-five. Sweat coated his face, moisture soaked into his shirt, and there were stains under his arms.

Mysta and her family were milling around the entrance. His heartbeat kicked up when he saw Mysta’s father and mother. His steps stuttered. For a moment he wanted to turn around and go. Mysta spotted him and waved him over.

“Too late,” he muttered to himself and strode toward them.

When he reached them, Mysta flashed him a brief, tense smile, then turned to her father. “Dad, this is my… This is Viktor. Viktor, this is my father, Samuel.” Mysta waved her hand from one man to the other.

Samuel’s dark brown eyes glinted with a hard light. Lines on his face showed the years. There were dark bags under his eyes, and his skin was tight. He had the look of someone who had worked hard for a long time and hadn’t caught a break. His clothing was neat and well cared for with a few worn spots in the elbows but outdated by a few years. He stood up straight, with the bearing of a proud man who refused to let life keep kicking him in the balls. Viktor’s heart slammed into his rib cage. For a second he stared at Mysta’s parent. A fission of heat filled her father’s eyes. His brows creased, and his nostrils flared. Samuel’s chin lifted. He made no move toward Viktor, not even a step.

Mysta nudged Viktor. Viktor shook his head and held out his hand. It wouldn’t do to ignore social niceties. They were in public after all.

“Just shake hands,” Mysta urged with another nudge.

Viktor wanted to turn and point out that he had his friggin’ hand out. It was Samuel who was refusing to meet him halfway.

“You’re the boy who threw rocks at my windows.” Her father’s voice was deep, as if from the depths of the earth.

“Pebbles, yeah.”

“Not good enough to come to the front door and knock? Or was my door too shabby for the likes of a full-fledged shifter like you?”

“Dad!” Out of the corner of his eye, Viktor saw Mysta’s horrified face.

“Samuel, please.” Mysta’s mother brushed Samuel aside and took Viktor’s hand in a firm handshake. “I’m Meena. I’ve seen you around Arbor Town. Nice to finally meet you.” Tension lines bracketed her face, and Viktor could see she was making an effort. The corner of Meena’s mouth twitched, and her tongue darted out, wetting her lips. Her gaze flitted from him to Samuel and then back to Viktor. The nervous flutter of her heartbeat reached Viktor’s ear.

“Or maybe you thought our kind wasn’t worth your notice until you decided to go after my daughter. She was working hard to become a familiar until you came along,” Samuel pressed.

“I know she was working hard,” Viktor snapped. “And she became a familiar, a damn good one. And I’m not too good for anything.”

“You’re damn right she became a good familiar. One of the best. She’s bonded to one of the most powerful witches we’ve seen in centuries.” Viktor opened his mouth, but Samuel cut him off. “All you did was distract her and make her doubt herself. Second-guess her calling.”

“I did no such thing,” Viktor growled.

“Please, stop. Please? Why don’t we go inside?” Mysta’s eyes pleaded with him.

“Come on, dear.” Meena pulled her husband into the building.

Mysta, her sister, and Viktor followed Mysta’s parents and paused at the maitre d’s station. While they waited for someone to show them to their table, Viktor closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He needed to cool down.

A waiter arrived, menus in hand. “Excuse me, sir. Your table is ready.”

“Please behave, Samuel. Let’s go sit down and just enjoy a good meal.” Meena took Samuel’s hand and followed their waiter to the back of the dining room, leaving Mysta and her sister with Viktor.

“I…um…this is Karolina. Lina this is Vik.” Mysta blushed. She waved her hand between the two of them. Reserve filled her eyes.

Lina had the same color and look of Mysta but with lighter brown eyes. She ducked her head, giving him a shy bob with her eyes downcast. Pink spots appeared on her smooth cheeks. “Hi,” she whispered.

Viktor grinned. She was just like her sister, only Mysta had always had her guard up around strangers. “Nice to meet you.” He glanced up to find what table Mysta’s parents had sat down at. They had been given a round table toward the back. Samuel gave him a hard glare from where he sat, which only fired Viktor up. Let Samuel judge him all he wanted. Only Mysta’s approval mattered. “Let’s go to the table before your father tries to kill me with his death stare.”

Viktor led them over to the table and pulled out chairs for each of them before taking a seat across from Samuel. Viktor refused to run away from whatever Samuel would throw at him.

Samuel smirked.

“Samuel, relax. Viktor, I was so sorry to hear about your mother.” Sadness filled Meena’s whiskey-colored eyes.

“She was such a lady, very dignified. Didn’t deserve what your father put her through.” Samuel’s hard stare weighed on him.

Viktor had strived to be nothing like the father that had abandoned his family when they’d needed him the most. A lump formed in his throat. He tried to swallow past it but it remained. He turned his attention to the menu.

“I brought her some tapioca when I could make extra.” Meena’s voice was quiet but filled with strength.

Viktor blinked. Images of the weed-filled yard, the house that needed so many repairs, the look of determined pride on Mysta’s parents’ faces when they walked down the street, the pathetic anemic vegetable garden in the back. He closed his eyes. How had he not seen it before? He wanted to say something, anything. Thanking her seemed inadequate. He remembered when he’d arrived at his mother’s house and found cartons of tapioca pudding, and there was no explanation. Tears stung his eyes. He turned his head away. He remembered the fresh vegetables—not big, hearty ones, but small choices on the worn, chipped Formica counter—and yarn and new needles and patterns. His mother had refused to tell him where they’d come from. It had all been Meena all that time. He shut his eyes for a moment to stave off the tears that wanted to fall. Gratitude filled his heart. He opened his eyes and gazed at the woman who had used up any extra money they’d had to make his mother’s last days more comfortable. Appreciation and honor filled his heart until he thought it would burst with the emotions.

Meena reached across the table for his hand. He grabbed hers, squeezing it to convey all the things he couldn’t say. She gave him a small smile.

Mysta passed him a tissue, which he used to dab away the moisture. “Thanks.” The single word came out hoarse, but no one acknowledged it.

He swallowed. “I tried to be there for her in between my jobs and sleep. She appreciated everything you did for her, even if you didn’t have to.”

Samuel cleared his throat, a suspicious sheen in his eyes.

Pain tugged at Viktor’s heart. “Mom never said anything about you. Never said who was helping her. I always volunteered to make runs for her, anything she needed. She always said she was taken care of, but we never saw you around.”

Mysta reached over and placed a hand on Viktor’s forearm, giving him a squeeze of reassurance that helped stabilize some of his emotions and gave him grounding. His fox chuffed in approval.

The anger faded further. “I came at night and during breakfast and lunchtime. She didn’t want me to miss work for her, so she made sure I could take her during those times. Any extra money I had went to her after the bills were paid. My mother taught me responsibility, and I never thought of you as beneath me. I just never wanted to get Mysta in trouble or to wake you up.”

Samuel chuckled. “Night shift, security for a big box store warehouse. I would’ve been up already.” His features relaxed.

“Boring. As. Fuck. All you do is stare at boxes and monitors and walk around every hour. ’Scuse my language.” Viktor nodded at the ladies.

“You’d think the higher ups thought raccoons would steal a flat screen the rules they set up. You couldn’t even take a piss without it being on the schedule. And we won’t talk about the pay.” Samuel shook his head.

“But there were benefits, insurance,” Viktor pointed out.

“Yeah, there was that. Saved us some money but not much.” Samuel let out a heavy sigh.

“Enough griping. Mysta,”—Meena turned to her daughter—“Tell us about what’s there to see in Evenfall? We’ve read the brochures a few times, but we’d like it from your lips, dear.”

Mysta chuckled. “What about the Evenfall forest hike trail? Or Sally’s Sundae Parlor? They have a lot delicious offerings. And there’s Evenfall Founding Museum. Just a few places you could go.”

“Why not the Goblin’s Prick? I’ve been wanting to check that place out for a while.” Samuel pouted. Samuel gave Viktor a look and rolled his eyes.

“Sam!” Meena slapped his bicep gently.

“I can take you,” Viktor volunteered. “Do you like home brews? They make some of their own stuff.”

“But is it good home brew? I’ve tasted stuff that will peel the paint off of a Harley.” Samuel shuddered.

“You like Harleys?” Viktor relaxed.

The conversation turned to types of motorcycles, dream bikes, and places they’d love to take road trips to, and Viktor began to relax a little. Mysta, Meena, and Lina talked around them about various things: recipes for both cooking and spells and books they’d read in the past few weeks.

The waiter arrived to take their orders. Everyone placed their meal choices, and then they began discussing local sights that Mysta’s family might enjoy.

“We could go to the Prick,” Viktor suggested. “It’s open mic night or as we like to call it make-your-ears-bleed night. Lots of laughs and cringe-worthy moments. We can talk more about that new line of bikes too.”

“Tomorrow night. I’m glad we could find some common ground. I can see that you could be good enough for my Mysta.” Samuel’s thick brow winged up in question.

“Deal. Ever been ice fishing? Cold as hell but great fun.”

“Never been. We’ll talk later. There’s a great spot on Arbor Town lake. Have you been back? Your father is doing work on the old Crawford place on the lake.” Samuel shook his head.

Viktor’s stomach dropped. “Did they at least get someone in there to clear it out?”

Meena sighed. “You know the Crawfords are stubborn. They swear it isn’t haunted. I’m lobbying the local covens to intercede before someone gets killed.”

“Mom, you know that’s not going to happen,” Lina interjected. “They take money from the Crawford family.”

“Um, so you’ve spoken to my father?” Sweat beaded on Viktor’s brow and his heart stuttered.

“Don’t worry, Viktor, now that your father has work he’s mellowed a bit. I think losing your mother made him realize just how angry he’s been. We have a beer every week and talk. He’s proud of you.” Samuel gave him a small smile.

They had a beer? Every week? The two sentences sounded foreign to his ears. The man he’d known his whole life who’d hated everyone and had only been around long enough to father and check in on his children had a stable job and a friend in town? If Viktor had been punched it wouldn’t have surprised him more than what he’d just heard.

“Proud…of….me?” Viktor hated that he couldn’t believe it and yet he didn’t.

Samuel chuckled. “I know how I sounded before, but that was to see how you would react. I didn’t always like or respect you, but now…”

“I understand. I-I don’t know how to take this new information. He was never really around growing up, either drunk or causing scenes and stressing my mom out. The rest of the family just ignored him and us.”

“I understand. I do. Maybe give him a call? Get the ball rolling? He’s got a lot to say. Just my two cents. Take it or leave it.” Samuel shrugged. The waiter returned to take their dessert order.

“So, you guys seem more relaxed.” Mysta nodded to her mother and father.

“Less stress means more time to spend with each other. Your mother has started a knitting circle, and I’ve got some great news.” Samuel reached over and took Meena’s hand. “Lina has found a family. First interview too.”

Mysta was out of her seat and around the table in the time it took to blink. She hugged her sister. “Oh my goddess, that’s awesome, Lina!”

Lina returned the embrace. “I didn’t think it would happen so soon. Once I take the exam and I pass I can move here. Mom and Dad are helping me find apartments.”

The waiter returned with their order and placed their choices before them.

Mysta beamed and released her sister. “That’s really great, Lina. Remember to call me if you need help.” She moved to settle down in her seat and dug into her cake.

Viktor frowned. “Isn’t that the norm? To be paired up on the first run?”

Meena shook her head. “No, it’s not, and the times have changed. In the past older, more prestigious families would bend the rules by claiming familiar families they’d dealt with as their own personal familiars, regardless of whether their sons or daughters were compatible or not.”

Viktor absorbed that information and frowned. “That’s not fair.”

“It wasn’t, but those were the rules back then, and that’s how the main branch of my family got first pick.” No emotion showed on Samuels face. “When it was time for other branches to have their turn for their testing there would be no one left.”

Sadness tugged at Viktor. It explained so much. His anger at the older, established familiar families grew.

Mysta put her hand on his. A calm, soothing energy flitted up his arm, cooling some of his ardor.

“A lot of time money changed hands to keep potential matches away from certain branches. This didn’t just happen in our family but others.” Meena gave him a sad smile. “For a long time that’s how it worked, but now there’s a new governing body, and rules are more flexible. We owe so much to the Roseways. They demanded that Mysta test with Bridget. The main branch had been trying to block their requests, but Bridget and her parents fought so hard for us.” Tears glimmered in her eyes.

“If Mysta hadn’t studied so hard and she hadn’t worked her butt off Lina wouldn’t have gotten the chance she did. By being paired with Mysta she showed other families that lesser branches did have power.” Pride blazed on Samuel’s face. “She demanded the right to try even though it was her last testing. We wouldn’t have let her if she hadn’t pushed for it.”

Mysta’s face flushed a crimson color and she looked down. “It wasn’t a big deal. I knew I could do it,” she muttered.

“Yes it is, sugar, I’m so proud of you!” Viktor squeezed her hand.

“We are all so proud of you, dear.” Meena beamed. “We owe you so much for all that you sacrificed. Thank you.”

“Yes, thank you,” Samuel echoed.

Viktor tried to think of something to say, but nothing came up. What he’d known had been a lie, one he’d made up to conform to the truth he’d always believed. Mysta’s family was nothing like the familiar families he’d encountered in his youth.

Mysta scooted over to him. “Mom and Dad are much more at ease than when I grew up,” she whispered.

He wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

She continued on despite his silence. “I’ve never seen them so…affectionate before.” Awe filled her features.

“They were never this—” He gestured across the table to where Samuel was caressing Meena’s face. Lina ignored them, staring down at her phone as if it were a lifeline.

“No, no PDA of any kind, not even a small kiss. They were always so…” Her lips pressed together in a thin line. “They were always so distant to each other. As if they were just people, not married or in love or anything.”

“You know I can hear you?” Samuel chuckled and Mysta ducked her head.

“Um—”

“It’s okay, dear, your father and I lived with a lot of guilt, him for not being able to give me the life he thought I’d wanted and me for not being able to support him in the way I thought he needed. We didn’t talk about it until recently. With the money coming in we were able to go to a marriage counselor.” Meena grinned. “We got a lot of things out in the open.” Concern flashed on her face. “Things are better now, all around.”

“Good.” Mysta glanced down. “Let’s finish this before my ice cream melts. So, where do you want to go tomorrow now that you have some free time?”

“How about the Witches Wishing Well? Said to bring good luck if you throw in a penny,” Meena suggested.

“I can show you around the library if you want,” Viktor threw out.

“That’d be great.” Lina beamed at him.

Viktor and the family ate dessert. In between bites they exchanged news from Arbor Town.

“Mayor is trying to hike taxes again,” Samuel muttered.

“Of course he is, but at least he’s hitting the rich and not the poor,” Meena pointed out.

“Still a lot of money. And Lina may have a boyfriend.” Samuel turned his attention to his daughter. A teasing light filled his eyes.

Twin rose patches appeared on her cheeks. “Not my boyfriend, Dad. Stop trying to embarrass me.”

“Just your shadow,” Samuel continued. He finished off the last of his beer and put the glass down.

“Dad! Stop it.” Mysta shook her head. “He’s just being annoying, Lina. Don’t mind him.”

Viktor couldn’t help but grin and watch it. Any last traces of anger or irritation faded away at witnessing the family bonding and happy.

When they finished eating Samuel called for the bill. He held up a hand. “Dinner’s on me.” The waiter arrived and gave them their bill folder. Samuel put a few bills on the table and stood up. “Time to go. Early day tomorrow.”

“I’ll get the car since you’ve been drinking, Samuel.” Meena left before anyone could protest.

They exited the restaurant. Lina and Samuel milled around with Mysta while they waited for Meena to bring the car around.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Samuel.” Viktor actually looked forward to the meeting.

This time Samuel took his hand and shook it, his smile reaching his eyes.

The family’s beat-up station wagon pulled up to the curb. Mysta bid Lina good-bye and waved her family off before coming over to Viktor and taking his hand. “Ready?”

He accepted her touch, and led her to the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. “Yeah. We have a lot to talk about.”

“I know,” she murmured.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Mysta held on to Viktor’s hand. A weight had lifted off of her shoulders. Her father and mother were in a positive place. None of the stresses from the past had destroyed them. She had never seen them so affectionate in her life. Her chest felt full of emotions she couldn’t express. It hurt to breathe. As she and Viktor walked down the road toward her house she tried to figure out what to say, but her brain was a blank slate. Her heart hammered against her rib cage, and taking in air became difficult. She became light-headed as she labored to get enough oxygen into her lungs.

“Mys? Honey, you okay?” Viktor stopped and tugged on her hand.

“I was wrong.” The words came out in a rush. Dizziness assailed her, and she swayed on her feet. She clung to Viktor like a lifeline to keep herself upright.

“Wrong? You? Naaaah.” Viktor grinned and leaned down until their faces were close enough to touch. His humid breath fogged up her glasses.

“Shut up.” The wave of uncertainty passed, and she felt better. She removed her spectacles and used her shirt to clear them up. “I… Seeing my parents tonight, how happy they are and knowing that they were miserable because of the weight of the secrets they were keeping showed me that.”

Viktor pressed his lips to her nose. “Yeah…” Emotions rushed over his features: regret, confusion, love, adoration, happiness. For a moment her breath stalled in her throat.

“Viktor…”

He pressed a kiss on her forehead. “I loved you so much and I knew you were so special. You’d never been touched by life the way I had with a drunk for a father who drifted from job to job and was never there for you or your mother, or at least I thought you hadn’t. Knowing your family had gone through so much because of stupidity of the main branch… You put so much pressure on yourself. I’m so sorry.”

Tears slipped over her cheeks. “I wanted to help them so much. I didn’t have friends outside of Bridget. I met Sera and Lana later. I would only see Bridget during the summer when her family came to stay at their Arbor Town home. I wanted to be her familiar so badly.”

Viktor squeezed her hand. “From what I’ve heard you were lucky to have her. I didn’t mean…. Shit… It’s just that she sounds like a really good witch. Goddess, that sounds so pathetic.”

She laughed. For the first time she knew she could confide in him without any misunderstandings. “She is. Her family is wealthy, but she doesn’t flaunt it. Bridget treats everyone with respect and decency unless you’re an asshole.”

“Think she’d like me? I want your friends to like me because I’m going to be in your life, Mys. I’m not going anywhere, honey.” He stopped again and pulled her to him until she fell against him.

She exhaled as joy bubbled up inside of her until she let out a crystalline laugh that sent night birds flying and the creatures that hunted them scurrying away from possible danger. Ignoring what could be lurking out there, she stood up on tiptoe and wrapped her arms around him. “I don’t know why I thought you were leaving. I just got so panicked earlier. I’m happy that you’re not going anywhere.”

A thick blond brow rose. “That’s what you thought? Honey, why didn’t you ask me?”

She pecked his lips. “I was too scared. But now…” She shook her head. “Now I want to be with you, to try.”

He squeezed her to him. His erection pressed against her belly. “I love you. I always have. I’m here for you regardless, if you’ll let me. I know you haven’t experienced a lot in life. Some of it was fear, but you’re not alone now.” He dotted her face with quick kisses that only made her hungry for more.

“You’ve told me that a thousand times in a thousand different ways but I didn’t want to pay attention. I was scared. It was all so new to me, so different from what I grew up with. I didn’t want to disappoint you.” She whispered the last part. Hearing it out loud made her heart ache. Sorrow and regret filled her. She wanted to run from it, hide, escape. Instead, she buried her head in the crook of his neck and blinked back the tears of humiliation. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. The word looped through her mind, choking her.

Viktor tugged on her hair. She tilted her head up to look at his ear, refusing to gaze into those beautiful green eyes that would only hold pity.

Viktor kept pulling. “Honey, look at me.” His stare weighed on her shoulders. She continued to avoid his eyes.

He chuckled. “Fine, I’ll talk to the top of your head.” He released her tresses and smoothed them down. “You are not stupid. You are beautiful, intelligent, sexy, sweet, unique. You are my goddess. I worship you. I would go to the ends of the Earth for you.”

The words pounded at the shields she’d put up to keep from getting hurt and cracked through to the other side to sink into the depths of her soul.

“I love you, even though you’re a perfectionist who needs to understand everything for it to make sense.” He punctuated that statement with a kiss on the top of her head. “I adore you and all that you are even if you ran away because you were scared. I have an idea of what you thought you had to do and what you felt you had to give up for your family, and I love you for it. Do you hear me? You’re loyal, generous, thoughtful, and sexy. So very sexy.” He pulled a hank of hair again.

In the face of his words and the moment, Mysta forgot where they were or who might be watching. Cool night air brushed against her face. She allowed him to tug her head back until she could see into his eyes. Viktor moved his head forward, and he pressed his lips to hers. In a flash of understanding she felt home, safe, and accepted. On a sigh she opened her mouth to him allowing his tongue to slip in to duel hers. She pushed herself closer until her breasts were cushioned against his chest, and the ridge of his fly pressed into her abdomen. He nibbled at her lips, sucking the sensitive flesh until it was hot and throbbed in time with her heartbeat.

His lips roamed over her eyelids, her forehead, both her cheeks and traced a path with the tip of his tongue along the edge of her jaw. He blazed a line of nips and sucks with his teeth along the side of her neck. She shivered. Her nipples pebbled. Energy zipped up and down her arms and legs. She made incoherent words and noises.

Viktor moved back and traced a fingertip along her neckline.

“Please,” she begged unsure of what exactly she wanted. Her breasts swelled. Her lungs struggled to take in enough air as she rocked against his body with minute movements. She slipped a hand between them and covered his erection.

With sure, slow strokes she teased him through the denim. Need to taste, to mark, her snake hissed at her. He had always been the one to pursue her. She wanted to show him that he hadn’t worked to get her attention in vain, that his faith in her wasn’t unfounded.

He flicked the hollow over her collarbone with his tongue before tracing it down over the bone-hardened rise. Sensation shivered up and down her spine. Tingles raced along her inner thighs, danced over her labial folds, and swirled at the base of her back. Her arousal grew, heat tracing through her veins. Her magic rose, and she felt her shifter side awaken to join the fray. She tasted earth and fire, the clean, sweetness of water and the deep musk of night air. Mysta could smell the rich fox pheromones swirl around them.

Her fingertips prickled under the caress of his silken hair. The soft tresses tickled her palms. With a moan, she pulled his head back to gaze into his eyes, now dark as pine needles. She pulled off her glasses and then his to take away any barriers between them.

She licked her lips and waited for him to react. He lowered his face.

“Well, honey? What do you want to do now?” His hands traced along her sides. His thumbs brushed the underside of her breasts, and he teased her with the flick of his fingers.

She groaned, tilted her head back, and lifted her chest hoping for more, but he remained still. With a frustrated growl she stepped away. “You want me to make a decision? You want me to take control?”

He blinked.

“I’m in control this time.” She grabbed his hand and dragged him off of the road, deeper into the forest. They were lucky no one had driven by, but if they had she wouldn’t have noticed. She brushed away foliage and kept going, ignoring the slap of branches and the pull of thorns, until they came upon a glade. In the distance she could hear the Silverlake waterfall. Using that as her background, she pushed him against the nearest tree. He raised a golden brow but didn’t say a word.

“Stay put, yes?” She waited for him to contradict her.

He relaxed against the trunk, arms at his sides, legs crossed at the ankle. Shadows painted his body, but enough of him was illuminated that she could see all his major parts. It was difficult to determine where to begin. Her gaze roamed over him. He was all hers.

A smirk painted his lips, and confidence filled his frame. He folded his arms over his chest but didn’t say a word. She wanted him a mess like she was. There was no up or down. She wasn’t sure what day it was nor did she care. The only thing that mattered was to see his lips red and bruised and his body covered with her marks.

“Think you have me figured out?” She moved closer to him until her breasts touched his chest. “You have no idea what I’m capable of. I have a year of pent-up desire and fantasies about you.”

The shift rose inside of her. She felt her magic and scales ripple over her skin. Her jacket became too tight, and her clothes constricted her. She shed her coat, letting it fall to the ground. Next she peeled off her top and dropped it, leaving her in just her bra, jeans, and boots. Rather than take the rest of her clothing off she savored the tightness. She traced her finger along her neckline. Her fingernail scraped the top of her neckline. The slight pain mingled with the pleasure zipping through her. The desire took hold, and fever crawled through her body. She allowed her snake to come into play. Her vision sharpened, and her hearing dulled. His heartbeat pounded in her head.

Goose bumps rose on her arms and across her chest. Her nipples tightened to hardened points, and her pussy lips throbbed. Moisture dampened her panties. She moved with a grace she lacked in her normal mode. The ripple of the air against her body, the magic that danced around them, was like silk gliding against her skin making her feel sensuous and more in touch with the side of her that she usually ignored.

He stood still, watching her. No fear in his eyes. “What are you going to do, Snake? Hmmm, think you can outdo a fox?”

With lightning-fast movement she grabbed his chin and held his head still.

He inhaled sharply but didn’t move away.

She tasted no fear from him. Only desire. “You don’t know me, not yet.” Her tongue slipped out between her lips. The now thin muscles, forked at the tips, flicked along the air tasting his need, his body heat, his musk. “You belong to me now.”

Her voice was throatier than she’d ever heard. She allowed her snake to take over her actions. Her fingernails dug into his skin but didn’t draw blood. She released him and traced the tip of her finger down from his chin to coast along his throat. Underneath her touch, his Adam’s apple bobbed.

“Do I?” A hint of something dark filled his tenor.

“Yes. I’ve decided to keep you. To figure out where this is going.” She allowed the confession to weigh between them without further explanation. She blazed a path down the center of his chest with her lips, continuing on until she reached his belt buckle.

“Keep me?” His body tensed.

She sensed his caution. “We need to build up trust between us, but to do that we need to commit to each other. Are you willing to be mine?” She stilled. All motion ceased. Her heartbeat slowed. She could see his pulse jump. The predator side of her watched her possible prey to see what he would do. If he said it was over, despite his earlier speech, she would have to walk away from her mate.

“I told you that I love you. Not going anywhere, sugar, so do your worst.” Challenge sparked in his eyes.

“You asked for it.” She grabbed the hem of his shirt and tugged it up until his torso was exposed. “Hold still. Don’t move.”

She lowered her head and outlined his nipple with the tip of her tongue, flicking the thickened nipple every so often. It went from pink to red with each swipe. He trembled under her ministrations but made no big movements. She kissed and licked over his chest and down his stomach, tracing his abdomen, pausing only to circle his belly button. She took her time. His muscles trembled, but he didn’t reach for her or order her to stop. His skin was hot to the touch, and his body heat beat against her face and soaked into her flesh. The more she gave him the higher her arousal spiraled. She gazed up along the line of his body, meeting his stare. Viktor’s eyes had become rings of dark green surrounded by black. He watched her every move.

She kneeled to press kisses over the ridge of his jeans and widened his stance. He let her push his body until he was where she wanted him to be. She rubbed the sides of his leg before slipping a hand between his thighs to tease his balls through his jeans. He groaned.

“Mysta,” he gasped. His hands shook.

She molded her hand around his erection and rubbed it through the material. He groaned and grunted. She undid his belt buckle and his fly all the while teasing and mouthing the tented denim.

“Mysta, please.” His voice was a high whine that made her smile.

She pulled down his pants to his ankles exposing the tops of his cowboy boots. With a chuckle she pressed kisses over his underwear. His cock jumped under her attention. With one hand she teased and rolled his testicles, and with the other she gripped his hips to keep her balance. Her legs shook under the strain of her body weight, and her knees ached from holding the position, but she didn’t dare stop. She glanced up at him. Shadows swathed his face in darkness. With her preternatural vision she saw his eyes were shut, and his head was tilted back against the trunk. He had a death grip on the hem of his shirt, and his hands shook. Sweat glittered on his chest and stomach. His abs trembled.

Her humid breath dampened the material of his boxer briefs. She licked the fabric over his shaft feeling the heavy tick of his heartbeat even through the thin barrier.

“Mysta, please.” His voice was a torn, fragmented sound that prickled at her conscience, but she refused to stop. She took the head of his dick into her mouth wetting the flared crest through the cloth.

“Fuck!” His body shook, and his hand sifted through her hair, grabbed a handful of tresses, and tugged.

She backed her head away from his cock, reached up, and tugged on his wrist. “Let go.”

“Finish this.” A growl edged his tone and a finger of fire raced along her spine. Her pussy lips tingled at the sound, and her clit jumped.

“Then stay still. I’m in charge.”

“And I’m about to come in my Jockeys if you don’t hurry up.”

She chuckled. “I thought you had more control than that. Don’t foxes have any sense of patience?”

He growled. “Suck me, or let me jerk off.”

She rolled her eyes. “Let go and I will.”

He released her hair and went back to holding his hem.

She grabbed the waistband of his underwear and jerked it down to join the puddle of his pants. His cock bobbed up and down, then stilled. It was a long ruddy shaft. The slit at the head was already leaking a droplet of precum. She licked her palm and took him in hand, stroking from root to tip while she tongued the small opening to lap up the beads. With her free hand she undid her fly, yanked down the zipper, and slipped a hand into her panties. Her puffy folds were dewy, and her clit was distended. She teased herself while she tormented him with slow jerks, adding a twist when she came to the crown and back down again.

His panting filled the still night air. She watched his chest heave up and down as he made sounds that were more animal than human. Reveling in her effect on him she laved the crown and ringed the edge just under the flared cap, flicking the V before releasing, focusing on mapping out his veins with her tongue. Reacquainting herself with his penis. On Halloween there hadn’t been enough time, now she could savor this experience.

Her fingers rubbed against her engorged folds. It wasn’t enough friction. She released his shaft, pulled her other hand out of her pants, and shoved down her jeans to give herself more room. Cool night air drifted over her damp slit, teasing her clit with soft brushes of air. She took hold of the base of his dick, and gave it a squeeze, then took him into her mouth, bobbing her head and stroking his rod. She returned to teasing her pussy, skating her touch over her wet nether lips, and flicked her clit. Pleasure danced along her nerve endings, lighting up her body from the inside out in a shower of sparks.

His taste, scent, the evening, and her own musk swirled around them. With each tug of air into her lungs her arousal grew. This was what she had been missing during the year without him. Nothing else mattered but giving him pleasure. Here and now was what she’d been running from. The loss of focus didn’t matter as she let her magic come into play, pouring her power into him, using it, bending it to her will to add to his experience. His hips flexed causing his cock to slip in and out of her mouth at an increased pace. He groaned.

She gave him a hard suck, hollowing out her cheeks and increasing the pressure. He stilled and swore. She didn’t move, holding him in her mouth. The edge of her teeth pressed against the tender flesh but didn’t break the skin.

“Shit, Mys, please,” he cried out.

She rolled her gaze up to stare at him. With slow, deliberate movement she eased her hold and pulled her head back until only the crown of him remained inside of her mouth. She shifted on her feet to get better footing and released his hip. With one hand she teased and tickled his sac. She resumed bobbing her head up and down, swirling her tongue around his shaft, tracing the thick vein that ran along the underside. His heartbeat echoed in her mouth to match her own body rhythms. She worked her clit in time with her actions on his cock. His balls tightened and pulled closer to his body.

Her name was a chant on his lips.

“Please. Suck me.” He fucked her mouth, his hips jerking back and forth. This time she didn’t stop him. His motions sped up the closer he got to release. He took hold of her hair and wrapped it around his hand, pulling it tight to guide her actions.

She let him use her. His erection jumped, and she waited for his release. He pulled on her tresses, but she didn’t release.

“Mysta,” he panted. “About to come. Please.”

“Nuh-uh,” she murmured around his length.

“Babe… Fuck… Coming…” He came, letting out a howl that rocked the night. She swallowed as much as she could, tasting his salty, musky seed. Some of his semen dribbled past her lips. She lapped at him until he softened and slipped out of her mouth, then licked up the last of his cum and wiped the rest away with the back of her hand. He sagged against the trunk, his breath coming out in huffs. The night drew darker and colder. Desire zinged through her body. Her legs trembled. She continued to work her sensitized clit until she felt the first stirrings of her orgasm.

Lights danced at the corners of her vision the closer she drew to the edge. Viktor straightened up, leaned down, and jerked her up to her feet. She lost her connection to her clit and swore. He pulled her against him and pressed his mouth to hers in a searing, claiming kiss. His other hand he slipped between her thighs. He thrust two fingers into her dripping entrance, using his thumb to work her pulsating button. She felt the shift slam into her, and her instincts changed. Her canines changed to slender, needle-thin curved points. She bit down on his lip, injecting him with the venom her people used to mark their mates. It was temporary, but it didn’t matter. His body jerked, and she felt a wash of hot liquid splash against her stomach and legs. She reached out and pumped his recovered dick until the last of his release dribbled over her hand.

Her legs tensed, and she released him. Her orgasm hit her. She let out a muffled cry against his mouth. His fingers fucked her, and he pressed down on the hardened pearl. Mysta shook against him. Moisture slipped over her inner thighs, and the perfume of her musk grew denser.

The change slid away. Bliss filled her limbs. Her legs shook. She tried to remain standing. He held her against him, his mouth continuing to work on hers. As the fog lifted she blinked and met his stare.

“Hi, honey.” He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Ready to go home?”

She didn’t know where that was and didn’t care. As long as she was with him everything was fine. “Hi, Fox. Let’s go.”

“I’ll carry you after we get decent.” He dropped into a hunch and yanked up her jeans, then picked up her top and handed it to her.

She pulled it on, feeling jittery and unsteady on her feet. He finished with his pants and pulled her close. She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. If this was what being a mate was about she wanted more of it. Now he had to mark her, and she couldn’t wait to see what he came up with. They would rest for a bit, and then go to either her place or his. Wherever he was, she knew it would mean home.

EPILOGUE

The Night of the Full Moon

“I want you to mark me as your mate tonight,” Mysta had told him on the phone at lunchtime. Which is why he was now standing naked under the light of the full moon. Sweat bathed his skin. The night was drifting away. It was at least three in the morning. He’d already frolicked, hunted, and allowed his fox to run free. His claws and enhanced senses remained. A light coat of blond fur dusted his body. The waterfall roared behind him as they waited. The picnic blanket was spread, and there was some food he’d picked up to help with her strength and energy—just some meats and bottles of chocolate shakes. With arms folded, he leaned against a tree keeping watch for her.

A twig snapped. He heard the slither of body slipping over the forest floor to his left. Goose bumps rose on his skin, and Mysta’s musk filled the air. He turned his attention toward a copse of trees that hid the spot from view.

Mysta slid into view, her body sleek, her tube form thicker around the center and tapering at the front and end. She rose up from her belly zigzagging up in the air. Her scales rippled and glimmered in the dim light. Arms and legs peeled off the main body growing in thickness and length. The inky blackness of her eyes changed to a warm brown. Flat features became fuller. Breasts, a trim waist, and full hips formed from a reedlike body. Legs split and spread as she came to stand before him nude and glorious. Rich chocolate waves tumbled down her shoulders. The silver light from the moon bathed her café au lait skin.

“Beautiful,” Viktor murmured.

Patches of copper, brown, cream, and gold rippled over her skin but didn’t connect. A slim, flat forked tongue slithered out between her lips and flicked the air.

Just seeing her sent a shock wave of need hot and thick through his blood. His semi-erect cock rose, and his body heated. His stomach muscles clenched, and his heartbeat picked up the pace.

She walked toward him, a shy smile on her lips. Up close her pupils were diagonal slits. Her tongue slipped out again. He remembered what it felt like to be licked and flicked by it, the quick flicks and butterfly-light touches. The thin lines of pleasure when she traced over the veins on his cock. He gripped the shaft and gave it a good tug. His inner fox stood up. The change came upon him. His teeth sharpened, and his tongue flattened.

Her hips swayed with each step, and her breasts bounced, drawing his attention to her tightened nipples. She stopped before him, reached up, and caressed his face. Her soft touch sent a tendril of fire down from his face to spread throughout his chest and arrow down to his groin.

“Hi, Fox.” The low rumble of her voice sent chills skittering across his flesh.

“Hi, beautiful. You sure about this?”

She moved so quick he didn’t even have time to blink. Mysta pressed her body against him. He could feel her body had heated up. Her tight nipples pressed against his pecs. She gripped his hips and pulled them toward her. His cock slipped up against her stomach, the head dragging against her flesh, setting off sparks. The cast-offs lit a fire in him. The predator rose up. With a low groan he dipped his head and took her lips in a hungry kiss. He wrapped his arms around her and moved them back toward the blanket. Unable to stop himself, he covered her face, her neck, her chest with nips, bites and taps. He lapped at her nipples, sipped at the sweat on her belly, circled her belly button, and spread her legs to cover her mound with touches.

Here her musk was denser. He inhaled her perfume and buried his face into her sex. He teased her labial folds, brushed her clit, and dipped his tongue into her dripping entrance over and over again pushing her closer and closer to the edge but not pushing her over. He teased her opening with his blunt fingertips, smearing her juices over her damp slit.

Above him, she pulled at his hair and cried out. Her hips rocked against his mouth. He stopped, giving her seam one last lick, then kissed his way up her body, pausing to lap at the valley between her breasts. He dropped down to his knees and pulled her down with him to the covering. The soft, nubby fabric rubbed against his skin, adding to the sensations rushing through him. He reached out and grabbed the foil envelope he’d placed there earlier. He ripped it open, sheathed himself, and took position over her. With one thrust he sank into her. She was hot, slick, and welcoming.

He withdrew and drove into her again. She wrapped her legs around him, holding him tight to her. Her nails raked his back as he took her lips. Their tongues dueled and wound around each other. Her nipples scraped against his chest as her nails dug into his shoulders.

Mark. Fuck. Mark. Fuck. The fox took over, its thoughts circling around and around in his head. He had to bind them together. She was his mate.

He pulled back his head and buried his face against her shoulder. On instinct he opened his mouth and bit down. He rode her hard, pounding her pussy. Her vaginal muscles contracted and relaxed around his cock, driving him closer to heaven with each thrust.

“Fox, yes, fuck me, harder, please. Mark me.” She urged him on. A hiss whispered in his ear.

He felt her teeth break his skin before he felt her fangs sink into the muscle. Her venom slipped into his veins. Now! Mark her now! the fox demanded.

He bit down in her shoulder. She bucked against him. Her pussy clenched around him, and she came with a cry. He followed her, filling the condom. This was only temporary. His brand would fade, but until then all would know she was his mate. His scent was rubbed into her skin. Later, when they were solid and she agreed and was fully committed to him, he would spill his seed inside of her without any barriers, but for now this would be enough. Tears blurred his eyes as he lapped at her wound, helping the healing along. She was finally his.

“I love you, Mysta,” he whispered.

“I know, Viktor.” She snuggled up against him.

“You’re mine now, my mate, no more games. Do you agree to strings?” He lifted his head and gazed down at her, waiting for her answer.

She gave him a glorious smile filled with warmth and life and trust. Her features were open and easy to read to him. No walls or masks.

“Strings, threads, the whole damn ball of yarn.” She moved her face up and took his lips in a soft kiss.

“Good, cause if you don’t I’ll break out my handcuffs and bind you to my bed.” He brushed back a strand of hair.

“Promises, promises, Fox.” She grinned up at him.

“No, guarantee.” Viktor returned her smile and held her close as the sky lightened above them. Soon they’d have to part, but for now he was content in the knowledge that he had his mate, and she wasn’t going to run out on him ever again. And if she tried he had a bag of tricks she didn’t even know about to use on her. Life was beyond good with Mysta at his side. Now if only he could convince Shevon to give him a raise.

There was something else he had to do first, though.

He slipped his phone out of the pocket in his jeans and dialed his mother’s house. It was answered on the first ring.

“Hello?” Steven Beauregard asked.

“Dad? It’s Viktor. I’m coming by next weekend. Maybe we can meet up?” Viktor’s heart hammered against his rib cage.

“Son!” Relief filled Steven’s voice. “Yes, I’d like that.”

“Good, gotta go. I have a lot to tell you, about myself and Mysta, my mate. See you next weekend.” Viktor hung up before he changed his mind. He wasn’t sure if that was the right thing to do, but he’d try it and see where it led. Samuel had shown him that sometimes things weren’t what he believed them to be. And anything that made his future easier with Mysta was worth it. He and Mysta deserved to be happy.

END

~ About the Author ~

Multi-Published Author, part vampire, part pixie, Selena Illyria was born with a need to write and enable. Her imagination takes her into the paranormal, sci-fi and fantasy genres and all sorts of mischief. When not writing she enjoys catching up on her TBR pile, watching some of her favorite programs and listening to her favorite music as well as teasing people with posts on decadent food and plot bunnies.

Discover more about Selena Illyria here

Website: http://www.selenaillyria.com

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Buy Bewitching the Vampire here

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Who knew one little disc could cause so much trouble? Certainly not Rena, until the disc in question—the one in which she lives out every sexual fantasy she’s ever had, including a few inspired by her crush, Captain Drogan Carter—falls into the wrong hands. Drogan’s. Rena is desperate to get it back—she can’t let him know all her darkest, dirtiest secrets…

When Drogan finds the disc and watches the very private contents, his first feeling is guilt. But that guilt soon turns to a raw, sexual need to have the wanton, carefree Rena in his bed. He knows she’ll never come to him willingly, but once he gets her, he’ll have plenty of time to win her over, and to prove to her that reality can be so much better than fantasy. But first he needs a plan, a way to get her right where he wants her: at his command.

Buy At Drogan’s Command here

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/at-drogan-s-command

Dragons at Midnight

Dragon New Year Book One

Selena Illyria

One dragon is hot enough, but three can make this tiger shifter burn in the most delightful ways.

Tiger shifter Louisa thought she'd ring in the New Year all alone. Little did she know that three younger dragon shifters plan on making sure she celebrates things right. Add a little steam, a few dragon shifters with dirty minds, and some creative use of furniture and New Year's Eve becomes the perfect scorching-hot party for four.

Buy Dragons at Midnight here

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/dragons-at-midnight

Dragon Ugly

Dragon New Year Book Two

Selena Illyria

Can a dragon shifter give more than just hot sex?

After Brent’s New Year’s fling with his friends Fletcher and Tor—and Tor’s mate Louisa—Brent is determined to find his own mate. His dragon wants him to find their mate, too, and if Brent doesn’t find a way to locate her soon, his dragon will take matters into his own talons. And that could spell trouble.

Wolf shifter Carissa has no desire to live up to her wild musician mother and artistic father’s vision of free love and sex parties. She’s buried her sexual desires and focused on building up her aromatherapy store, Scentify, no distractions allowed. Until she meets Brent. The sexy dragon shifter makes her burn with suppressed need. The only problem? His dragon wants Carissa, too. And pursuing the dominant dragon would be playing with fire.

Giving in to his dragon saps Brent of his focus and energy. Things are turning ugly—dragon ugly. How can he bond with his mate when his dragon only wants sex?

Buy Dragon Ugly here

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/dragon-ugly

Seven Sins Inn: Pietro and Callisto

Selena Illyria

Pietro doesn’t think he has time for love. Being a demon king and part owner of Seven Sins Inn leaves him little time for women. But when his friends claim that they’ve found the perfect match for him, Peitro is determined to prove that he doesn’t need a set up--he can find his own date, thank you very much. Undeterred, his friends send him to investigate a “problem” at one of the Inn’s guest functions, where Pietro sees the woman of his dreams, right there in the very kissable flesh.

Paranormal negotiator Callisto Monroe went to the Seven Sins Inn for a friend’s wedding, hoping she could scope the place out for work. But she didn’t plan on being swept away by the hot, dark-haired demon, or spending a weekend having the hottest sex of her life. All that’s well and good. But when things get too hot to handle, how is she supposed to protect her heart?

Buy Seven Sins Inn: Pietro and Callisto here

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/seven-sins-inn-pietro-and-callisto

Roman: Fallen Lovers

Selena Illyria

Can a mere woman heal a fallen angel's wounds?

Author Tristina Deveroux has been dreaming of a man—a tall, dark, sexy man whose nightly visits bring her to a fever pitch. But come morning, she always awakens agitated and unsatisfied—and alone. When her agent suggests a writer's getaway in Scotland, Tristina can’t resist the chance to gain a little distance, hoping a change of scene will help her escape the dreams and get her mind back into her latest book.

But when she receives a passionate letter from a mysterious Scot, she can't resist the urge to meet him. Can love triumph and heal them both from past hurts? Or will the clash of fantasy and reality bring the past back to haunt them?

Buy Roman: Fallen Lovers here

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/roman

Renny’s Mate

Selena Illyria

One Island. One Werewolf. One week of wicked sex in the sun...

When Larissa's given a week at her boss's private island, she jumps at the chance for some sun, sand, and complete relaxation.

Avoiding his family's annual get together, Renny hops a plane for his brother's private island. But once the werewolf in hiding spots Larissa coming out of the surf--wet, nude, and irresistible--hiding is the last thing on his mind. And the last thing he expected was to find his mate. But how can a woman like her trust the black sheep of the family who's never committed to anything in his life?

Buy Renny’s Mate here

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/renny-s-mate

“Dragons at Samhain”

Selena Illyria

Halloween Heat II

An Anthology of Erotic Paranormal Ménage

Three stories of blazing paranormal ménage. Hot dragons, sexy wolf shifters, and scorching threesomes to make an unforgettable Halloween night.

"Master Me" by Rachel Firasek

"Dragons at Samhain" by Selena Illyria

"Witchvine Seduction" by Dawn Montgomery

Buy “Dragons at Samhain” here

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/halloween-heat-ii

More Romance from Etopia Press

Hunger Unbound

The Hunger Series Book Two

Jennifer James

She'll love you to death...

Miranda Thibodeaux has one goal: save her kidnapped best friend from Adrian Kaiser--masochist, Incubi king, and the vampire Miranda's father intended for her to marry.

When the Vampire Council has her arrested and tortures her mate, Daniel, Miranda realizes she's got bigger problems to deal with than a forced marriage contract and a kidnapping. The Council needs Miri to help return fertility to the vampires, and they'll use any means necessary to ensure her compliance.

Escaping the Council's clutches, politicking with Celtic goddesses, and surviving demon attacks isn't the least of Miri's problems. Thwarting a ghost with deadly intent, she finds out her best friend Anna has a magical genetic pedigree linking her to powerful beings. But when Miri's Hunger is ripped from her body, it takes physical form, draining everyone it can with reckless abandon, and Miri grows weaker by the moment. It isn't long before everyone realizes that if Miri and her magic aren't reunited, they'll both be doomed.

With the goddess Babd assembling an army of the dead to combat rogue Empaths and demanding Miri's participation in battle, assassination attempts, and a dead demon in the living room, Miri has to find help, and fast. Unfortunately, there's only one person she can turn to who can keep the Hunger controlled until they can be reunited in one body: Adrian Kaiser--masochist, Incubi king, and the vampire Miranda's father intended for her to marry...

Buy Hunger Unbound here

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/hunger-unbound

Shift Happens

I Heart Shifters Book One

Christy Gissendaner

Ellie Reynolds runs a nail salon that caters to shifters of all varieties. The proverbial shift hits the fan when billionaire mogul Jackson Lawrence walks in the door and offers Ellie two million dollars to sell her shop. Ellie has no intention of selling out, especially to someone who plans to bulldoze her shop to the ground and replace it with a fast food joint. Their battle of wit and will is brought to a sudden halt when Jackson’s enemies appear, throwing them into a fight for their lives.

Jackson believed he'd left violence behind when he resigned his position with the Blood Wolves, a secret shifter military group, but someone wants his company's cyber invention and will stop at nothing to get it. He didn't mean to drag Ellie into his mess, but he’s willing to do anything to protect her and the firewall his friend created...anything except fight his attraction to the outspoken redhead he's suddenly responsible for. Jackson soon learns Ellie is hotter than he first gave her credit for...like dragon hot...and life is about to get a whole lot more interesting.

Sometimes shift happens when you least expect it.

Reader Note: contains BBW heroines, billionaires, humor, werewolves, dragon shifter, and paranormal erotic romance elements

Buy Shift Happens here

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/shift-happens-5

Red’s Wolf

Grimm Woods Book One

Arianna Archer

The deeper the woods, the darker the secrets...

Arden Wilde is at the top of her game. She's got a gorgeous, attentive boyfriend on the fast track to a promising medical career, she attends the best culinary school in the nation—the Culinary Institute of America in New York, and is nearly finished with her externship with an eminent chocolatier. But when she's called home to Grimm Lake, California to help care for her ailing grandmother, Arden agrees without hesitation.

Running through the woods becomes one of her passions, and she runs every day on her way to help care for her grandmother. Until she meets the enigmatic Tate Foster, the darkly handsome, tattooed manager of the Little Bear Brewing Co., sunbathing nude by the path to the lakeshore. He invites her to swim with him, but Arden declines—she has a boyfriend, after all. But it isn't long before thoughts of Tate become more than she can ignore.

When she mentions him to her grandmother, she's given a stern warning. The Fosters are "old Grimms," from one of the original founding families in the town, who keep mostly to themselves. There are legends, ugly stories, about the old families and their Germanic roots, and about the Grimm wolves—shapeshifters who lived double lives as wolves and humans. Arden doesn't believe a word of her grandmother's fairy tales, until a night of Tate's fierce, skilled sexuality drives all rational thought from Arden's mind.

When a tourist is found murdered in the woods, savaged by animals, Arden isn't sure what to believe. She knows she can never go back to her old boyfriend in New York. And the brazen, feral Tate has no intention of letting her go anywhere...

Buy Red’s Wolf here

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/red-s-wolf-3

The Firefighter’s Mate

Werewolves of Cadillac Falls Book One

Jayne Ripley

No protection can save this firefighter from her scorching curves...

Gabriela Acosta is on the run from her past. She's escaping back to the last place she felt happy--the town of Cadillac Falls. She has no money left, and her car just broke down in front of Fire Station Six, home of the Rescue Company Pack. The last thing she wants is to get involved in more wolf pack politics, but the man who comes out to help her is the most gorgeous firefighter she's ever seen. And he's a werewolf. And she can't seem to resist his easy charm...

Luke Taylor can't believe his luck. The beautiful, curvaceous Latina is the kind of woman who sets his dreams afire. His wolf has found a perfect mate--now if only Gabriela will back down enough to let him help her. He's determined to prove himself to her, protect her, and claim her. She has other ideas. When her life is endangered, he discovers he may be forced to quench that fire in her that he loves, just to keep her safe.

There's an arsonist loose in the town of Cadillac Falls...one who is targeting members of Luke's pack for unknown reasons. The three wolf packs in town are at each other's throats over who is setting the fires. And Gabriela might be next on the pyromaniac's list...

Reader note: contains BBW, multicultural, and erotic romance elements