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OF MAGIC, LOVE, AND
FANGS

AN ENCHANTED ROCK IMMORTALS NOVELLA

ROBIN LYNN
Copyright © 2020 by Robin Lynn
Cover Art by Book Cover Insanity, at bookcoverinsanity.com
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without
written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a
book review.
Created with Vellum
For my parents, who nurtured my love of reading, and encouraged
me to write.

For my sister, who tolerated my first stories.

For my husband, who never lost faith in me.

For my children, who appreciate my crazy.

For my cats, who keep me entertained.

 CONTENTS

The Enchanted Rock Immortals

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13

The Fae’s Obsession—Coming Soon!

Acknowledgments
About the Author
THE ENCHANTED ROCK IMMORTALS

Demons and Vampires. Elfs and Fairies. Mages and Witches.

Werewolves and Dragons. Psychics and Telekenetics.
These magical beings and more exist, rubbing shoulders in their
daily lives with unsuspecting humans. But it doesn’t happen without
order. Millenia ago, the clans—Sanguis, Fae, Magic, Shifter and
Human Paranormal—wisely formed a Council to maintain that order.
The end? To ensure the worlds of human and paranormal beings
didn’t collide and break out into a war that would result in the
extermination or subjugation of either.
As human civilization progressed, the first council formed the All
Clan Charter at the natural vortex in Great Zimbabwe giving each
clan a voice in the administration of affairs both between the clans
and with humans. Next, Asia formed its council at Chengtu Vortex.
Then European at Warel Chakra Vortex. North America came next at
the natural vortex humans called Enchanted Rock in what today is
known as Texas.
Now, thriving communities of paranormal beings exist in and
around the granite outcropping. Humans scrabble over the dome,
not suspecting an entire city exists within its confines: The North
American Council and all its departments—Legislative,
Administrative, Security, Medical, Vortex Transportation, and Legal,
plus restaurants, clan hotels, and shops catering to the paranormal
crowds.
Also under that dome? Intrigue, politics, and most importantly,
love. These are the stories of The Enchanted Rock Immortals.
CHAPTER 1

C rystal Davis was about to do a bad thing. A very bad thing.

She’d spent a lifetime being nice and finishing last at
everything. This time she wanted to finish first. Her ex-fiancé
needed to suffer for what he’d done. The wedding invitations were
picked out, deposits put down on the venue, her dress purchased ...
and he’d cheated on her.
Time for payback.
She didn’t care if it went against everything her parents raised
her to believe. All their teachings to forget, forgive, and never to
hold in negative energy had brought her nothing but pain. It no
longer mattered to her if the universe carried a cosmic key to
balance out every act one made.
Karma could bite her.
She chalked a pentagram on her living room floor. Rose scented
candles flickered at the movement. Her big boned and definitely not
overfed cat sauntered into the pentagram to check it out, as if she’d
drawn it for him. He plopped down right in the center and yawned,
fully prepared to settle in for a nap.
“Out, Poe.” She picked him up and set him outside the chalk
lines. His tail swished in irritation at her rudeness.
Fifi, one of Crystal’s other cats, mewled from the armchair. The
armchair Crystal hadn’t sat in since the dainty tortoiseshell
commandeered it years ago for a throne.
“I don’t want to hear it,” Crystal shot back.
Fifi mewled again, her eyes glowing yellow in the shadows.
 “Don’t look at me like that. I know what I’m doing.” She winced
at the argument with her cat. It proved her friends were right. She
needed to get out more.
The clock on the mantel struck the first chime for midnight.
Her nerve endings jittered. She couldn’t believe she was about to
summon a demon. The whole idea went beyond insane. She’d
believe it a hoax if not for the women she’d met on the website.
Their stories felt real, and Crystal didn’t have anything left to lose.
The clock hit the last chime.
Adrenaline poured through her veins. Her pulse kicked up. She
bowed to the North, South, East and West. The strange words of the
spell stuttered on her lips like a tongue twister. She repeated the last
line four times to call forth the demon. “Veni te ad me arcesso,
Mephile.”
A flash of lightning lit up the windows. The following crack of
thunder rattled the walls. Her heart rate blasted into overdrive.
There’d been no storms in the forecast for outside Chicago. The
temperature dropped. Goosebumps prickled over her skin, and the
fine baby hairs on the back of her neck rose. The candles went out
and relit themselves.
“You called,” drawled a voice from the center of the pentacle.
She took a deep breath in and choked on it. Her brain birthed a
billion thoughts at once. They crashed and collided into each other
until one remained. Demons existed. The evidence stood in her
living room and he didn’t look at all like the picture of Mephile she’d
found online.
The gorgeous male in front of her oozed panty-dropping sexual
appeal. His eyes were blue smoke. His dark hair tousled. His jaw
chiseled. Denim jeans hugged muscular legs and thighs. Steel abs
and pecs stretched a green Henley, the top buttons teasingly
undone.
She stared wide-eyed and rudely at him, shock stealing her
ability to blink. “You’re real.”
“Why is it no one ever believes I’m real? The spell summons a
demon.” The dangerously good-looking demon tilted his head to the
side and huffed out a long sigh. “And here I am.”
 “I didn’t really believe it would work.” A hysterical laugh bubbled
up from her throat. “I thought they might be pranking me on the
forum.”
His eyelid twitched. “You found the information to summon me
on a forum?”
“It was on a website for magic and natural healing. I paid one
hundred dollars for it.”
“Are you shitting me?” His eyelid twitched again. “One hundred
dollars? That’s all it took to get the spell to summon me?”
“I had to buy some herbal supplements too.”
The look on his face turned murderous. “They’re using me to
hawk herbal crap? What kind of supplements were they?”
Her cheeks heated. She’d purchased a bundle advertised to boost
the immune system. They’d sent pills to heighten sexual libido
instead. It was another reason she’d wondered if the spell was a
hoax.
The heat on her cheeks spread to her neck. She’d never been
able to control her compulsion to blush when uncomfortable. “They
were pills to keep from getting colds.”
“What was the name of this website?” He sniffed the air, the blue
in his eyes deepening to a rich velvet. “Never mind. We should get
started. I’m hungry.”
She hesitated and looked him up and down. The demon she’d
expected had a white beard, enormous belly, and the marshmallow-
puffed cheeks of every illustrated Santa she’d ever seen. The only
difference between the Christmas legend and the demon Mephile
were his crazy eyes. “Are you really Mephile? You don’t look like your
picture.”
“No kidding.” Bitterness bladed his tone. “That asshole looks like
a demented Santa Claus.”
“Who are you?”
His lips flattened. “Does it really matter? I’m here and ready to
fulfill your desire.”
“Of course, it matters. I want to know who’s standing in my living
room. Are you even a demon?”
 “You’re in the presence of Alexander Laurent, son of Bellario
Laurent and member of the Arias bloodline of the demon Clan
Sanguis. But you can call me Alec.” He bowed with the sarcastic
flourish of a courtier delivering a diss to his king. “Does that answer
your question?”
“Not even close.”
He stalked out of the pentagram. “Too bad.”
She froze at his approach, her heart punching against her ribs.
“How are you doing that? The pentagram traps you until we’ve made
a deal.”
“So good of you to educate me on what I can and can’t do, little
human.”
“I’m not little.” She gritted her teeth because she totally was little
at 5’2”. She’d been the shortest kid in every class she took. “My
name is Crystal.”
He chuckled, the sound delicious, like the first sip of a crisp wine.
“Crystal? Like the rock? Are your parents hippies?”
Her protective instincts flared to life. His amused poke at her
parents hit a sensitive spot. She’d once asked them why they named
her Crystal. They’d been stunned she didn’t realize her aura
reflected light, cleansing the darkness from those she met.
Considering all the bullying she’d received from kids at school, she’d
wanted to smash every crystal in the house.
“They’re not hippies. They’re new age radicals who believe in
spiritual and environmental consciousness.”
His upper lip curled. “That must have been fun growing up.”
“I’ll have you know, I had a wonderful childhood.” It had been if
you took out the constant jabs from her peers, the complaints from
the neighbors about the pot smoke and nude celebratory outdoor
dancing at the change of the seasons.
“Why don’t we get started. Tell me what you desire.” He tilted his
head, inhaling deeply. “Your blood smells delectable, and I haven’t
fed in a while.”
Her lungs seized, her chest wheezing like air through bagpipes.
She took a step backward and bumped into the couch. “Wait. You
drink blood? There’s nothing in the spell about blood drinking.”
 “How else do you think I get paid for my services?” He arched a
condescending brow. “I don’t do this stuff for free. I get to feed
from you once to seal the deal and a second time when the job is
complete.”
A live wire of fear shocked her from head to toe. “Are you a
vampire?”
His eyes glittered, his mouth stretching to a sneer. “Don’t be
ridiculous. I’m a demon. Vampires serve me.”
“I don’t care what you are … you’re not touching my blood.”
“There’s always a blood price. It’s not my problem you didn’t do
your research.” He surveyed the room and walked over to the piano
in the corner, plucking an out-of-tune key. “You live here?”
Disdain oozed from the question. Her spine snapped straight. She
loved her home. The wildflowers hanging to dry from the ceiling. Her
grandmother’s frayed tapestry couch. The personal photos and
artwork covering every inch of the walls. “If you don’t like it, feel
free to leave at any time.”
Fangs glinted white from his mouth. “That’s not how this works.
You owe me blood and I owe you a desire. We’re stuck together
until then.”
She shivered from head to toe, her voice sliding into a squeak.
“You’re really going to drink my blood?”
“How else would we seal the contract between us?”
“A bloody steak won’t work? Or some other dead animal blood?”
Poe ambled over, took one appraising look at the Alec and butted
his head against the demon’s leg. Alec’s lack of reaction intensified
the cat’s demand for attention. Poe head-butted him again, rubbing
his cheeks on Alec to scent him.
“I assume the cat’s not on the menu,” Alec teased, stroking Poe’s
squat form. The cat moved in closer for full body petting. “Isn’t he a
little fat?”
Her jaw clicked shut at the poke to another one of her emotional
hot spots. “Poe isn’t fat. He’s more hair than cat.”
“There’s a lot of meat under all that fluff.”
“The vet says it’s his breed. He’s already on a special diet with
fewer treats.”
 Poe wound himself around Alec’s legs, purring louder than the
engine on a monster truck. A regal meow came from the armchair,
and Fifi stretched to clean her paw in dainty licks.
“You have a tortoiseshell? She’s quite the little lady. Are there
anymore?” His admiring tone coaxed a reluctant smile from Crystal.
As if called, Skippy Lou, her Siamese, made his presence known.
He peeked his head out from underneath the couch and back again
like a gopher from its hole. “That’s the last one.”
“No dogs?”
“I like cats. I’m allergic to dogs.” She glared at Poe. The
traitorous cat was loving on Alec as if tuna coated him. Poe clearly
didn’t sense Alec’s demon status or his blood drinking habits.
Alec untangled himself from the cat and sat down on the couch.
Poe promptly followed, curling into a cotton ball of softness next to
him.
Crystal glared harder at Poe. The cat had chosen sides, and it
wasn’t hers. There’d be one less treat for him tomorrow.
“Why did you call me?” Alec lazed against the floral accent pillow
on her couch, his tone dipping into a seductive silk. “What’s your
darkest desire.”
“I’m not sure this is a good idea.” Her need for revenge made
perfect sense before she’d found out demons were real and her
blood the cost of doing business. Maybe it’d be better if she found
another, less hazardous way of getting back at Len. A dead fish in
his car could work. Or maybe stink bombing his wedding reception.
“It’s too late to change your mind.” Alec’s eyes darkened to
twilight, the color beautiful enough a person could get lost in them.
“Since you’re going to have to give me a vein to get rid of me … you
might as well get something out of it.”
“I summoned you because of my ex-fiancé Len.”
“Perfect,” Alec purred out the word. “I love murder. How do you
want it done? A knife to the heart? It’s pretty poetic. Or maybe you’d
prefer something with more suffering? I can be creative.”
Unease seeped under her skin. “Is that what you do? Kill
people?”
 “I’m a demon. Why else would you call me if not to kill
someone?”
“I want to get revenge, not commit murder.” She swallowed.
“He’s getting married to someone else and I summoned you to get
him to fall back in love with me.”
He laughed, the sound cruel and cutting. “You went through all
of this because you want him to love you again? How ridiculous.”
Hot anger spiked her insides, the type of anger she’d dealt with
every time her ex criticized her artwork. “I didn’t summon you for
your opinions. All I need is for you to work your demon magic and
give me what I want.”
“You’re out of luck then.” He grimaced as if in pain. “Love is the
one thing I don’t do. I’m a killer, not some kind of Cupid. I don’t do
hearts and happiness.”
“Not even if it’s so I can dump him, demolish his career, stop his
wedding, and embarrass his soon-to-be-bride in one move?”
He tilted his head to study her, his expression morphing from
disgust into a look bordering on approving. “That’s much more
interesting. What did this guy do to you?”
“Is that really necessary for you to know?”
“Definitely.”
Her muscles stiffened, her stomach cramping as humiliation
gutted her from the insides out. “We were supposed to get married
at the end of the year, and he cheated on me with the one person I
hate more than anyone else, our boss. And now they’re getting
married next month.”
He pursed his lips, blowing out a low whistle. “Are you sure you
don’t want me to kill him?”
“Stop with the killing already. He can’t pay for what he’s done the
rest of his life if he’s dead.
“True.” His face shifted into something breathtaking and savage
all at once. “It’d mean I’d have to settle for all-out personal and
career annihilation instead of murder.”
“Will you do it?” Nervousness prickled over her skin, anxiety
coiling in her belly. She needed him to agree. Her happiness
depended on Len finally getting payback for everything he’d done to
her.
“Give me your blood and I’ll give you Len’s heart … ” He smiled,
devilish glee sparkling in his eyes. “Beating or not.”
CHAPTER 2

A lec’s fangs ached. Arousal rippled through him to settle hot and
thick in his groin. He’d gotten lucky tonight. Crystal was
stunning. Sun-kissed skin. Curly chestnut hair. Innocent doe eyes.
Plump lips perfect for kissing and a fifties pinup body to match.
His head throbbed in time with her heartbeats. Every beat
pounded against his brain like a jackhammer on concrete. He’d
known hunger before, but this was different. This hunger demanded
satisfaction. It consumed him down to the marrow of his bones,
attacking his centuries-old grip on his self-control.
She darted an uncertain look at him. “How do we do this?”
He beat the lust clouding his thoughts into submission, evening
his voice into a professor-lecturing monotone. “There are a lot of
different ways. I can drink directly from your wrist or your neck. It’s
quick and efficient. Although, most of my clients prefer a more
satisfying method.”
“What’s the other method?”
“The inner thigh.” His lustful thoughts rushed back with a
vengeance. A drink from the thigh always led to more. Passion filled
days and nights lost to the exquisite pleasure of sex and blood.
Her cheeks pinked. “I suppose sex is part of that package?”
“If you’d like it to be.” He lowered his tone, spinning seduction
into his words. “I’ve spent centuries learning how to pleasure a
woman. I know the kisses to make you moan, the sensual touches
to make you beg, the secret places to make you come. Soft and
slow. Or hard and fast. I can show you what it’s like to be
worshipped by a demon.
Her eyes flared. The look on her face moved between curious,
shy, and yearning. She dragged her teeth over her plump bottom lip.
He’d never wanted to bed a client more. He wanted to knot his
fists in her wild curls, pull her tight against him, and capture her
mouth in a kiss. “I can make you forget you ever had a fiancé.”
Her expression froze, shattered, and re-arranged itself into scorn.
“I’ll forget him on my own once I’ve had my revenge.”
The rejection feasted on his pride. He’d been turned down a few
times before and it’d never bothered him. Until now. He flexed at the
tension in his shoulders. The refusal of one woman didn’t matter.
There’d be another summons soon, with a different woman and
more to follow. They were endless. Over and over and over with no
escape.
He gave her a smile, open and friendly, as if her rejection hadn’t
thrown his world into temporary disarray. “You won’t get your
revenge until you give me your blood. Will it be the wrist, neck or
thigh?”
She pinned him with an icy stare, completely at odds with the
flush cascading down her neck. “You can use my wrist.”
“Wonderful.” He patted the seat beside him. “Come get
comfortable.”
She walked to him like a gladiator prepared for a death sentence
and sat down, her spine stretched tall.
“Relax.” He took her hand, drawing circles on her soft inner wrist
with his thumb. “I’ll make it good for you.”
“Get on with it. I don’t need any demon foreplay.”
He smirked as her pulse accelerated, not with fear but arousal.
Her honeysuckle fragrance and the unique scent of her blood filled
his nostrils. He shuddered in anticipation. “I want you to enjoy this.”
“I don’t want to enjoy anything about this. I want it over with.”
He didn’t care what she wanted. He’d make it more than
enjoyable for her, he’d make the pleasure in the act irresistible.
Maybe then she’d let him have more than a taste later. He attempted
to catch her eye. She avoided him and stared straight ahead
 “Look at me, Crystal.” He curled his tongue around her name,
luxuriating in the word like it was dipped in chocolate. If only he
hadn’t lost his powers over the human mind. He’d once been able to
bring his blood donors to orgasmic pleasure with his voice alone.
She turned and looked at him, the sweep of her lashes low over
her eyes. He held her gaze, allowing her to see his own desire for
her before kissing her wrist. He lapped at her pulse point with tender
strokes, pressing more kisses to her skin, until her spine softened
and she moaned.
Heat rolled down his spine and he labored to breathe. “Tell me
you accept this contract of your own free will.”
“I accept.”
Her blood pulsed thicker and faster against his lips. Pressure built
in his gums, his fangs elongating to aching points. He scraped her
fragile skin and bit down with the reverence of a worshipper at the
altar of an ancient Goddess.
Blood poured into his mouth. Iron and salt. Spicy and sweet. He
groaned, his whole-body taut, spiraling toward release. Pleasure,
divine and excruciating, flooded him like ink through water. He’d
tasted blood like this once before.
With Razelle.
Clan Sanguis’s former queen. The woman who’d cursed him. The
woman who’d destroyed his life. The woman with pure magic in her
blood. An agissina. The most precious and revered of his kind.
Crystal wasn’t entirely human.
The revelation shocked his heart. Fireworks exploded in every
one of his cells. The magical power of an agissina flowed through
Crystal’s veins.
He wanted to bury his fangs deep in her neck. To drink and
drink. He wanted to thrust between her thighs. He wanted to bind
her with a mating bite. He wanted her by his side for eternity.
He could do it too.
She’d never be able to fight him off. She’d be trapped to him
forever. Against her will. With no way out. Exactly like what Razelle
did to him.
 Horror and disgust slammed into him. His self-loathing gutted
him to the core. He might be a demon, but he wasn’t a monster. He
withdrew his fangs from her wrist.
Crystal’s whiskey-colored eyes were heavy-lidded. She blinked
and frowned as if forcibly woken from a pleasant dream. “You’re
done?”
“For now.” His head swam. The edges of his vision hazed and
blurred. Her blood continued to flow through him, the fiery magic
lapping at his insides. His body shook at the earth-shattering high.
This simple moment, a standard exchange for services, changed
everything. Maybe his entire life, if he could get her help. He licked
at her small puncture wound to heal it.
She took her wrist back. “You didn’t tell me it’d be like that. It
was …”
“Orgasmic? Better than chocolate?” He shook the remnant of fog
from his head. “I didn’t know it’d be like this either.”
“It can’t happen again.” Her dazed expression and shaky breath
mirrored his own.
He barely managed a smirk. The taste of her blood lingered like
nectar on his tongue. “Why? It’s too much like sex? Do you need a
cigarette?”
“It wasn’t that good.”
“Don’t lie. I heard those breathy little pants. That’s only a taste of
how good it can be.”
“No, thanks.” She pursed her lips. “I’m not interested in screwing
a blood-drinking demon who refuses to admit he’s a vampire.”
A growl formed in his throat. “I’m not—"
“You just drank my blood.”
“That doesn’t make me a vampire anymore than—” He licked his
lips, reveling in the spicy sweet remnants of her blood on his tongue,
the magic continuing to hum in his bones.
She tilted her head and waited for him to continue.
He hesitated. What he was about to tell her would change her
entire life. The honorable thing to do would be to let her live in
ignorance. It would keep her safe. Until someone else found out
about the magic she held. At least he’d never hurt or abuse her.
 “You’re not completely human.” Her mouth formed a protest, and
he rushed to finish. “I knew when I tasted your blood. You’re an
agissina. It means there was a demon somewhere in your lineage
who passed on a rare gift. Your blood can create my clan’s magic.”
Crystal laughed. “Do you always get crazy after you eat?”
“I’m not crazy.” He sighed. He did sound crazy. This situation
couldn’t be more random or bizarre. “Look. I know what I tasted in
your blood. You can tap into demon magic.”
“I have to be dreaming. Or hallucinating like the time my mom
brought brownies over.” She blinked and looked around the room.
“This can’t be real.”
“It’s real.” He reached for her wrist and turned it over to reveal
the lack of bite marks on her skin. He smoothed the pad of his
thumb over the exact spot he’d bit down. “Shall I taste you again
and prove to you how real this is?”
She glanced down at her wrist and back up at him, her eyes
wide. “If I’m this agissina, and you’re a demon … does this mean
angels are real too?”
He scowled. What was it about angels? People always asked
about them. “Angels don’t exist. Shifters, fae, demons, vampires,
sorcerers, and human’s with paranormal abilities do.”
“That’s incredible.”
“You’d think so, until you get everyone in a room to work
together.” Irritation climbed into his tone. “Our clans have been
hashing out the same legislation for centuries. Nobody can agree on
anything.”
“You have your own form of government?”
“A useless bureaucratic government with no power to accomplish
anything.” His jaw clicked shut. He’d petitioned them for help with
his curse when his king failed him, and he’d never heard a word
back. Cowards.
“That’s amazing.” Her mouth rounded in awe. “There’s this whole
secret world people know nothing about.”
“Kind of like the secret hiding in your blood?” He placed a kiss to
her wrist, her honeysuckle fragrance soothing his frustration. “If you
think that’s amazing, wait until you see the magic you’ll be able to
do.”
Her forehead furrowed. “If all of this is true, why haven’t I ever
been able to tap into these so-called powers?”
“You need to drink demon blood to unlock the magic inside you.”
His body tightened, his pulse pounding in his groin at the
anticipation of her feeding on him
“Will I always have to drink blood once you unlock my magic?”
“Only if you decide to be turned into a vampire.”
The furrow in her brow etched deeper. “Would I live forever
then?”
“You would. Until someone removes your heart.” His pulse stilled
to a stop. He’d seen it happen hundreds, if not thousands of times.
Razelle made it an art form, finding the bloodiest and most painful
ways to suspend a demon in the space between life and death.
She’d never beat her onetime record of a decade.
“That’s kind of like how vampires die.” Crystal’s lips curled into a
coy smile. “Only they get a stake through their heart instead.”
“Yes.” He gritted his teeth. “That’s the only way vampires and
demons are similar to your lore. Otherwise, we can walk in sunlight,
touch blessed items, and eat garlic.
She squeezed his hand and let go. “You’re warm and not cold. Is
that my blood in you?”
“We’re not reptiles,” he replied, soaking every single syllable in
his disgust.
“What about coffins? Do vampires need to sleep in them?”
“No coffins. Ever.” He pressed his lips together to stop the growl
at the back of his throat. All it’d taken was one demon prankster and
a bunch of gullible newly turned vampires to bring that particular
legend to life. They were still dealing with the fallout.
“This is all so hard to believe.” She ran a fingertip down one of
the blue veins in her wrist. “How can my blood have magic?”
“I’ll show you.” He breathed in deep, the possibility of freedom
lifting the dead weight from his lungs. “If we unlock your powers,
you’ll be able to do a spell that could help me.”
She leaned in closer. “What spell?”
 “It’s a simple location spell. I’ve been trying to find Mephile. He’s
the demon you should have received tonight.” He purposefully didn’t
mention if he found Mephile, he’d force the asshole to take his job
back by any means necessary.
“Mephile is missing? Is that why I got you instead.” She blushed
and waved a finger in the air over him. “Not that I’m complaining.
It’d be weird giving blood to a Santa-look-a-like.”
His attempt at a laugh stuck in his throat. “I wouldn’t say
missing. The jolly old ass is hiding from me.”
She put distance back between them, her blush fading. “Did you
do something to make him hide?”
“Why would you assume I did anything?”
“I don’t know.” She darted a cautious look at him. “Maybe
because you’re a demon?”
“That sounds an awful lot like discrimination.” He laughed, real
this time. “It’s terribly judgmental of you.”
Her smile held embarrassment. “You’re right. I shouldn’t assume
the worst because you're a demon.”
“Damn straight.”
“I apologize. Why do you need to find Mephile?”
Years of endless disappointing dead ends burned inside him.
“He’s supposed to be doing this job, not me. It’s time he took it
back.”
“Why are you doing his job?”
“That’s not important.” Acid bubbled in his stomach at the
injustice of Razelle’s curse, the years he’d spent in slavery to petty
human demands.”
“If I’m going to locate him, I need to know why.”
Tension marched up his spine. He didn’t want to tell her the
truth. He didn’t want to lie either. Lies never stayed buried and he’d
experienced the wrath of one agissina, he didn’t dare risk the wrath
of the one who might hold the key to his freedom.
He rolled his shoulders back to loosen the tightness in his back.
“The former queen of my clan, who is also an agissina, cursed me to
take Mephile’s place granting human’s desires. I’ve been trying to
find him for three hundred years to get him to take his job back and
break my curse of servitude.”
“That’s a long time for a punishment to last.” Her tone quieted.
“What did you do to get cursed?”
He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Razelle enjoys taking
young demons to her bed. She finds a favorite and uses them for
blood and sex until she gets bored. I assumed it’d be the same
when she showed an interest in me.” His jaw clenched and
unclenched at his naïve stupidity. “Weeks later, she demanded a
mating bond. When I refused her, she cursed me.”
Crystal’s eyes stormed. “That’s not fair. No one should have to
have sex or mate with someone unless they want to.”
“Razelle doesn’t play fair. There’s a reason they call her reign the
one of death and suffering.”
“How does the curse work?
“I’m not entirely sure.” Weariness wrapped itself around his
heart. Every decade the weariness suffocated him more, sucking out
his hope, stealing his strength to keep going. He wouldn’t make
another century.
If he didn’t escape his prison soon, he’d pluck out his own heart
to set himself free. “All I know is when she’d finished casting the
curse, I’d taken over Mephile’s job and lost my ability to influence
human minds.”
Her mouth fell open. “Can all demons do that?”
“Most of us can. It’s a little like hypnotizing someone. You plant
suggestions and most humans will follow. It’s a useful tool.”
“Is that how you’re supposed to do this job?” She studied him,
her surprise fading and a distrustful gleam growing in her eyes.
“How are you going to help me with Len if you’ve lost your abilities?
He’s not going to wake up and magically change his mind about who
he loves.”
He laid his hand on his heart. “Trust me.” He’d make sure she got
what she wanted if it meant she’d locate Mephile for him. “I have a
plan.”
“You better have more than a plan.” She rose from the couch, her
hands at her hips. “Without your powers, there’s no way he’s going
to break his engagement.”
He trailed his eyes over her wild curls, cupid-bow mouth, and
down her figure rounded in all the best places. He didn’t stop the
appreciative grin widening across his face.
“You’re a stunning woman. It will be easy to get him to fall back
in love with you. Men like him always want what they can’t have.
We’ll give you a new suitor. Someone he can be jealous of and I
guarantee, he’ll be yours again.”
She looked down her nose at him. “Are you this suitor?”
“I’ve been told by several women I look like pure sex in a suit.
That and my ass is as juicy as a ripe peach.” He stood up and turned
slightly to give her a good look.
Her cheeks colored from pink into red as she avoided looking at
his ass. “What kind of women have summoned you?”
“The kind that like a demon under their sheets.” He moved
forward, close enough for her to reach for him if she wanted. “It
doesn’t have to be like that between us. All we need to do is
pretend.”
“You really think your plan will work?”
“I know it will. Don’t underestimate yourself.” He took another
step toward her, his eyes falling to her mouth. “I bet he’s already
regretting he broke things off.”
“When do we start?” She licked her lips.
“Tomorrow.” He stifled his possessive urge to nip at her wet lips,
claim her mouth with his, and kiss her until she forgot Len existed.
“And if you do the locater spell for me, I’ll waive the blood fee you’ll
owe me when Len’s heart is in your pretty little hands.”
Her cute button nose wrinkled. “You mean that figuratively,
right?”
“Sure.” He smiled as if he wasn’t lying through his teeth. There’d
never been a heart he’d wanted to rip out more.
CHAPTER 3

C rystal wandered into her kitchen. The sunny, yellow-painted

room, daisy curtains, and white cupboards didn’t fit the demon
lounging on the table. He might have spent the night on her couch,
but his wrinkled clothes and ruffled hair only made him look like he’d
rolled out of bed after a bout of all night, mind-blowing sex.
Mind-blowing sex, she’d turned down. She sighed at the tangle of
longing and regret in her heart. Turning him down had been the
right thing to do. She’d made a rule to never have casual sex again
after an awkward and hurtful experience in college.
The rule didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate what she’d given
up. She ogled the snug fit of his shirt, the ripple of hard pecs the
fabric clung to. His jeans did nothing to hide the hard muscles of his
thighs either. He’d been right, too, about his ass resembling a juicy
peach.
Having him around would make it very hard not to break her
rule.
Worse than that…Poe, Skippy Lou, and Fifi lay scattered at his
feet in contrasting balls of black, tortoiseshell, and cream.
He looked up from his phone to catch her ogling him. His mouth
flirted with a knowing smirk. “Cute outfit. The bunny slippers are a
nice touch.”
She blushed and tugged her pajama top down. She’d forgotten
she’d put on the dancing llama pajamas. Years of wear and multiple
washings had shrunk the top down a size. She stretched the flannel
until it covered most of her stomach.
 Alec turned his attention back to his cell, his fingers tapping on
the screen. “Do you have any coffee? All I could find was tea.”
Her brain stalled. The demon in her kitchen held the just-
released, top-of-the-line, Sang Dai phone. She’d not normally
recognize such a thing, except Len stood in line for hours to
purchase a ridiculously-priced cheaper version. “You own a cell
phone?”
He shrugged. “I’m a demon, not a vampire turned in the
seventies. Have you heard of Sang Dai Tech?”
“Who hasn’t?” The company’s world-renowned innovative
technology was unaffordable for her budget. That didn’t stop her
from drooling over their digital art software. “I used their computers
throughout school.”
“My clan owns the company, along with half of Silicon Valley.”
“Demons own Sang Dai Tech?” She rambled the words out
between long, surprised pauses.
He glanced up from his phone. His face held the proud look of a
parent whose child scored Valedictorian and made it into the Ivies.
“We have a passion for technology.”
“Wow.” She paused to process the startling information. “No one
would ever suspect demons were the forefathers of computers.”
Mischief glowed in Alec’s eyes. “It’s the perfect cover. Plus, it puts
us in control and keeps us relevant.” He glanced around the kitchen.
“Do you have a coffee machine?”
“No. I only drink tea.”
“Tea.” His upper lip curled.
“Tea is healthier for you. You’ll live longer.” She groaned at his
exaggerated, can-you-possibly-be-saying-that eye roll. “Right. You
don’t need to worry about a longer life.”
He returned to his cell and started typing. “I’ll order coffee beans
and a machine for same-day delivery. There’s no way I’m drinking
tea tomorrow.”
“How long do you expect to be here that you need a coffee
machine?” She stole another look at his strong, muscular form. Her
libido shot past yearning to straight-up demanding her rule get
broken.
 “I’m not sure. This is a different type of job for me.”
“It seems silly to buy a machine. You can’t go without coffee for
a few days?”
He set his phone down. “How would you like to go without your
tea in the morning?”
“Point taken.” She’d rather take a hot poker to the chest than
give up her Earl Grey tea. “What’s the plan for today?”
“To gather information and make our first move.” His jawline
sharpened. “Tell me about Len.”
Arrows of hurt, anger, and humiliation pierced her heart. Pain
radiated through her soul, deep and unshakeable. “We work
together as illustrators at a publishing company. That’s how we met.”
Alec nodded. “Typical co-worker meet-cute. Didn’t anyone ever
tell you it’s not a good idea to date people you work with? It rarely
works out.”
She shut down the retort on her lips. He was right. She’d been
told that by multiple concerned friends and family members. “We
have a lot in common. We’re both artists.”
He tilted his head toward the painting of sunflowers on the wall.
“Is that your work?”
“It is” She fortified herself for the sure-to-come criticism.
Everyone had an opinion. Len had a lot. In the beginning, he’d been
positive, full of insightful comments. They’d turned harsh after their
engagement.
“The piece is beautiful. You have a unique style, somewhere
between Impressionism and Abstract Impressionism. The use of
color is striking, and your paint strokes are delicate.”
Her heart fluttered and warmed. “Thank you. Len always said my
work was derivative and old fashioned.”
Alec’s entire face scowled. “He’s an idiot.”
“An idiot who’s a really talented artist.” She hated to admit it. It
burned how petty she’d been about the praise he always took for
granted at the local art shows.
“He might be a great artist, but that doesn’t mean he has taste.”
Alec’s tone wielded scorn like a weapon. “A woman like you is a rare
once-in-a-lifetime gift. And instead of cherishing you and getting
down on his knees in thanks for such a blessing, he looked at
another.”
The fluttering in her heart descended into her stomach and went
direct to her core. Her blood went fever-hot. Desire streaked through
every inch of her body.
“Where’s your bedroom?” he asked.
She made a strangled noise somewhere between a moan and a
gasp. “Why?”
“We need to start the next step in our plan and find something
for you to wear to work today.” His smoky gaze swept over her like a
caress. “Unless you’d prefer we do something else instead?”
Her rule about casual sex bent a little. She could have incredible
orgasms and get her revenge. It didn’t have to be awkward or
messy or hurtful. It didn’t have to be like the time she’d hooked up
with a classmate, partnered with him for an assignment, and
humiliated herself by being unable to stop picturing him naked. He’d
blamed her for their low grade, and when she’d confessed her crush,
he’d never spoken to her again.
The no casual sex rule snapped back in place. Firm and
unbreakable.
“What did you want me to wear?” She wiggled her toes in her
bunny slippers to distract herself from the invitation in his eyes. “My
closet is a disaster.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t judge.” He rose from his chair, the
movement of muscle its own elegant work of art.
“Is that a promise?” She shuffled down the hall toward her
bedroom.
Alec followed, pausing in front of the portrait she’d painted of her
grandmother from memory. The elderly woman wore a rose print
apron, and stood over a plate of freshly made cookies. In one hand
she held a spatula, in the other she offered a cookie to a grinning,
young girl. The kitchen behind them was a mess. Flour coated the
floor and counter, the sink filled to the brim with dirty dishes.
“What do you think of this painting?” She held her breath.
“Your sunflowers were beautiful... this is a masterpiece. You’ve
captured the woman’s soul.”
 Pride soared inside her, knocking down the hurtful words of Len’s
critique like pinballs in an arcade game. She’d never shown this
piece at an art show. Len talked her out of it every time she’d
suggested it. “How did I capture her soul?”
“It’s the look of love you painted in the woman’s eyes.” Alec’s
tone gentled. “In this moment, her whole world exists in the smile
on the little girl’s face.”
“I never looked at it that way before.” She wiped at the burn of
tears in her eyes. “That was my grandmother. She always baked
with me when I was a kid. I think we ate more of the dough than
the cookies.”
Alec’s fingertips grazed the small of her back. “She loved you
very much.”
“I loved her too. I still miss her.” Crystal didn’t move away from
his caress. She leaned into it, luxuriating in the comfort it offered.
His touch felt natural. Familiar. Caring. Deadly to her rule.
She moved away from him, opening the door to her bedroom.
Poe darted between her legs. The bedroom was supposed to be a
cat-free zone. He disagreed. Getting past the closed door had
become his favorite game.
One he’d mastered.
He jumped up on the bed and sprawled out on her white lace
duvet. She’d have to get the tape roller out. He left black cat hair on
everything he loved. And he loved her bed.
Alec circled the room. He lingered over the framed photographs
on the walls, touching the porcelain ballet dancers on her dresser,
one at a time. “Your room suits you. It’s lovely.”
Her insides turned gooey at how perfect he looked in her space.
It didn’t make sense. His demon sexiness should clash with her
personal items, not fit with them. “You haven’t seen the closet yet.”
“Were you a dancer?” He picked up her ballerina music box and
turned the key. The tinny sounds of a waltz tinkled as the pink
ballerina spun. “
“I wanted to be, but I was as clumsy as a donkey standing on
one leg.” She saddened at the memory of her ballet teacher’s harsh
assessment of her figure. “I also didn’t have the height or the flat
chest needed to be a ballerina.”
His appreciative gaze roamed over her, his sultry smile growing
the longer he stared at her. “Your body’s perfect as it is.”
The intensity of his stare soaked heat into her cheeks. “It’s why I
ended up taking a drawing class. It didn’t have a size requirement.”
She opened her closet and pretended to examine her clothes to give
her face a chance to cool down. “I know. I have too many clothes,
but I hate to throw anything away.”
Shoes covered the entire floor inside. Hats stacked the upper
shelves. Skirts, pants, blouses, and dresses overflowed from their
hangers on the closet rod.
“This is nothing.” He surveyed the contents of her wardrobe and
chose a few hangers. “I remember Marie Antoinette’s rooms of
clothes at Versailles” He spread the items he’d chosen out on the
bed. Poe blinked at the interruption to his nap and promptly fell back
asleep.
“You knew Marie Antionette?” She opened and closed her mouth.
“Of course, you did.”
He held up a sleeveless, green, linen sheath dress. “This is nice.
Do you have heels to match?”
“That’s not something I would wear to work.”
“What do you normally wear?”
“Jeans and a t-shirt.”
He held out the dress to her. “Not today. Your new boyfriend is
taking you to lunch at Prima.”
“That’s the most exclusive place in the city.” She buzzed with
excitement. Prima had a wait list months long, with meal prices
similar to a week’s worth of food. She’d dreamed of eating there
ever since it’d opened. “You don’t have to do that.”
“It’s all part of the make-the-ex-jealous package.” A flirtatious
sparkle danced in his eyes. “And I want to see you in that dress.”
She walked over to the mirror and held the dress in front of her.
One of her friends gave it to her as a gift. She’d never worn it before
—it over emphasized her chest and hips.
 “It will look stunning on you.” He joined her at the mirror. His
body mere inches from hers.
They looked good together. His dark and handsome tallness next
to her short, golden coloring. They’d look even better together if she
could tame her hyped-up-on-cocaine curls. “I still don’t understand
how wearing this dress will get Len back.”
“It’s not about the dress. It’s about creating the illusion of a new
life he isn’t a part of. Everyone wants what they can’t have.”
“Even you?”
“Especially, me.” He locked his eyes on hers through the mirror.
“That’s how I know this will work.”
The heat from his body radiated through her pajamas to feather
over her skin. Her nipples budded into tight points. She stifled the
moan on her lips.
He threaded his hands into her hair, lifting the weight of it from
her neck and twisting it into an updo. “Do you have any hairpins?”
“You can do hair?” She shivered at the sensual brush of his
heated breath along on her neck.
“Crystal … I can do everything.” He smirked, a wicked light in his
eyes. “You only have to ask.”
This time she didn’t stop her moan. Forget asking. She wanted to
beg.
CHAPTER 4

A lec looked over the bouquet of sunflowers he’d handpicked for

Crystal from the florist. Similar to the ones she’d painted, they
fit her personality in their vibrant, unique, cheerfulness. He stopped
in front of her office cube. Decorated in photographs, sketches of
her cats and dried flowers in a vase, the small space carried the
warmth of the woman herself.
She turned in her chair to look at him. A shy smile unfurled from
her lips. “The front desk let you in?”
“How could they resist when I look this good?”
She laughed and pushed up her horn-rimmed reading glasses.
“Are those for me? They’re beautiful.”
His heart leapt into his throat. She’d been gorgeous this morning,
but with glasses perched on her nose, she stole his breath away. The
librarian fetish finally made sense to him.
He wanted to unpin her hair and snarl his hands in the curls.
Smear her pink lipstick with long, hot kisses. Slide the zipper of her
dress down and find out what color lingerie she’d ended up wearing.
The demure blush lace or the bold black satin.
The squeak of her chair as she stood halted the fantasy in his
head.
He swept her a courtly bow and held out the bouquet. “They’re
not as beautiful as you.”
“Thank you for the flowers. And the compliment.” She blushed. “I
don’t get them often.”
“The men you’ve dated are idiots.”
 “True.” She took the sunflowers, smiling down at them. “How did
you know they were my favorite?”
“I made an educated guess since you painted them perfectly.”
She glanced up at him through her lashes. “That’s very observant
of you.”
“One of my many talents.”
“You look nice.”
“Nice?” He caught her gaze and gave her the smoldering look
that never failed him. “I was going for sexy. Maybe sexy enough for
a kiss.”
Her eyes warmed into a rich amber and cooled. “I have a rule
about that. I don’t do casual sex.”
An ache burrowed itself into his chest, disappointment trailing
behind it. He ignored it. This was a job and Crystal a client who’d
made her disinterest in him clear. “What cubicle is Len’s?”
“It’s next to mine, but he’s in Julie’s office right now. It’s the one
in the back.”
He scowled at the sad dip of her mouth. “Good. Go ask her if she
has a vase for the flowers your boyfriend hand delivered.”
She didn’t have to the convey the message. The office door
opened to reveal someone who could only be Julie. Her blue eyes
widened at catching sight of him. With her straight blonde hair and
pale skin, she had a china-doll prettiness about her.
Julie glanced at Crystal and back to him. “Who’s this?”
“I’m Alec Laurent.” He didn’t have to fake the ring of pride in his
tone. “Crystal’s boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend?” The man striding after Julie had to be Len. A
mashup between hipster and pretentious artist, his goatee was
meticulously shaped. His hair was pulled back into a man bun, his
jeans distressed, and his vintage concert t-shirt an obvious fake.
Alec hated the painful clench in his heart. If this is what Crystal
liked, he’d never had a chance at a night with her. Still, it didn’t
mean he couldn’t show her how she deserved to be treated. He’d
make sure she never settled for someone like Len again.
“I didn’t realize you’d started dating again, Crystal.” Julie crossed
the room on long legs, her stiletto heels stopping in front of Alec.
She scanned him from top to bottom like an appraiser did an antique
searching for signs of forgery. “How long have you been together?”
“Long enough for it to be serious.” Alec wound an arm around
Crystal’s waist. “At least on my part.”
Len’s voice pitched up an octave. “We just broke up.”
“It was time for me to move on. Like you did. And once I met
Alec…I knew we were meant to be together.” Crystal turned to
adjust Alec’s tie. Her viciously satisfied grin brought one to his own
face. She’d stepped into the part of a girlfriend flawlessly.
He liked it. A lot.
It felt comfortable, like coming home to a roaring fire on a snowy
day. He’d never had a girlfriend before, and after Razelle’s curse, the
option disappeared. He didn’t have anything to offer a woman.
He didn’t have anything to offer Crystal.
His insides clamped down into a ball of pain. He widened his grin
to keep his emotions from showing on his face.
Julie tapped a set of manicured fingers against her hip. “Tell me
about yourself, Alec. You must forgive me, I’m a little protective of
my employee. Did she tell you I got her the job here after I met her
at an art show? I had to beg the art department to give her a
chance.”
Crystal cringed against him. “That was a long time ago. I’ve
proven myself on several accounts since then. I did all the
illustrations for the Oscar Tipple picture books, and they hit the
bestseller list.”
“That’s true.” Julie's sugar-sweet voice would have killed a
diabetic. “Although, the writing probably had more to do with that
than the pictures.”
“Not necessarily.” Alec pressed a kiss to the top of Crystal’s curls.
“They do say pictures are worth a thousand words. How many words
are in the Oscar Tipple series?”
Crystal relaxed into him. “Very few.”
“The illustrations were good.” Len’s mouth screwed into a
constipated grimace, as if the compliment caused him personal pain.
“Did you enter the Beaton Family Art Exhibit this weekend? I decided
to show my still life.”
 “No.” Crystal lowered her head.
“You should enter,” Alec said, keeping his tone light and
encouraging. “Your artwork is amazing. It deserves an appreciative
audience.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Her quiet reply incited Alec’s
demon nature.
It recognized Len as the enemy. The asshole had hurt Crystal.
Not with his fists, but with his words. Alec’s murderous instincts
rattled the mental prison bars he kept them caged in. He wanted to
spill Len’s blood, tear out his throat, and shred his intestines.
Len’s stroked his goatee. “It’s probably for the best.”
“It really is,” Julie echoed. “One can take only so much criticism.”
Alec vowed to himself Len wouldn’t live out the year. Julie either.
He’d been wanting to try out some more creative means of torture.
He’d have to get his own set of art supplies. This kind of cruelty
demanded special treatment. The demon inside him nodded an
approval. “Do you think you have a chance at winning, Len?”
The man’s chest puffed up. “I was a finalist last year. It only
makes sense I’d win this time.”
“Care to place a friendly wager on that?” Alec’s smiled the slow,
patient smile he reserved for newly-turned vampire idiots. “I’m
willing to bet if Crystal enters, she’ll win this year’s competition.”
“I don’t believe in betting,” Len said coolly.
“What if the winner receives an introduction to Nil Whit?” Alec
nearly laughed at the greed in Len’s eyes. Nil Whit owned the most
prestigious art gallery in the city. With one word, the vampire could
make an artist a legend.
Crystal would be his next. Alec would make sure of it. Her talent
easily surpassed the last three legends.
“You know Nil Whit?” Her eyes widened, surprise making them
shine. “For real?”
“We’re old friends.” They were more than old friends. Alec had
known Nil for hundreds of years. He’d been present at the vampire’s
turning. They might not have spoken much since then, but a
vampire wouldn’t turn down a request from a demon. “Do we have a
bet?”
 Len drew out his answer with a long stroke to his goatee. “Why
not? It’s an easy win.”
Rage thrummed into Alec’s bloodstream. When this job ended,
he’d paint the walls with Len’s blood and show him what bad
artwork really looked like. “It won’t be that easy of a win. Wait until
you see Crystal’s painting of her grandmother.”
“That sentimental thing?” Len shook his head. “She’d be better
off entering one of her landscapes.”
Crystal huffed and raised her chin. A flush reddened her cheeks.
“That sentimental thing is going to cost you an invitation to Nil
Whit.”
Arousal slammed into Alec. Crystal looked magnificent, the
lioness out to protect her cub.
“We’ll see about that.” Len held out his hand to shake on the bet.
“You’ve got a deal. I can’t wait to meet Nil.”
“Great. I’ll contact him.” Alec ended the handshake quickly to
keep from ripping Len’s arm off. He glanced at his watch. “We really
need to go before they give away our reservations at Prima.”
Julie’s head wobbled. “You’re going to Prima? How did you get a
reservation?”
“With a phone call.” Crystal’s smirk bolted desire straight to Alec’s
groin.
“It was nice meeting you both,” Alec drawled out the lie. He’d
never let it be said that he couldn’t be polite. He guided Crystal to
the elevator.
She turned a death glare on him as the doors closed. “What was
that back there?”
“What do you mean?”
“Pitting my art against Len is never going to get him to fall back
in love with me.”
He met her glare with smug satisfaction. “You wanted his heart,
and I’m giving it to you. Just differently than I planned. There’s
nothing that jackass loves more than his art. When your piece wins,
it’ll break him and eviscerate his heart.”
“That’s only if I win.” She punched the elevator button to the
lobby.
 “You’ll win.”
She punched the elevator button again like it’d fought back.
“What are you going to do? Rig the competition?”
“I won’t need to.”
“How can you say that?”
He raged at the fragile, broken edge to her voice. Len did this to
her. He’d made her believe her work unworthy of praise. Alec would
need to get a lot more creative with Len’s torture. “You’re going to
win because I have faith in your talent. You should too.”
CHAPTER 5

C rystal took a sip of her dry, super expensive chardonnay. She

savored the woodsy taste with a hint of berry. She savored the
man sitting across from her at Prima more.
Alec hadn’t lied about looking good in a suit. She’d wanted to rip
his clothes off the moment he’d handed her the sunflowers. In his
charcoal suit, he’d surpassed handsome and soared straight into
swoon-worthy territory.
Their romantic move like date made it worse. Alec had played the
part of the adoring boyfriend impeccably. He’d pulled her chair out
for her, ordered their meal with her permission in the sexiest French
accent, and when his long, elegant fingers slid down the stem of his
wineglass, she’d wanted to suckle every digit. She should hate him
for giving her a taste of the unattainable.
Instead, she basked in the glow of his attentions, lapping up
every complimentary word from his lips. To put the cherry on top of
an already perfect experience, he’d given her a taste of how
wonderful revenge felt. The shocked look on Len’s face earlier had
been like opening a longed-for Christmas gift. She couldn’t wait to
open more.
“Did you have time to look at the website I texted you?” Alec
took a drink of his wine. The candlelight highlighted the sharpness of
his jawline, the elegant lines of his face, and the sensual curve of his
lips.
Her mouth dried to sand, and she finished the last of her
chardonnay. “The Demon Way of Life dot com? She set down her
empty wine glass, shut down her libido, and switched into business
mode. “The site’s a little messy. I had a hard time navigating it.
Especially the section on agissinas and the use of blood runes in
magic.”
“I’ll look into it.”
“If you need help, there are firms who specialize in web design.”
He frowned and gestured at the server to refill her wineglass.
“My clan specializes in web design. The problem is Razelle is the only
one who can use runes.” He spat the agisinna’s name out with the
revulsion of a nun denouncing Satan. “And she’s not about to update
the site.”
“There was a pretty large section on her.” She flinched at tendrils
of fear climbing over her skin. The horror of the former queen’s
reign had curdled the tea in Crystal's stomach. “It said when her
powers manifested, she was able to seize the throne.”
“There wasn’t much seizing done on her part. Agissinas are like
goddesses to my clan. The king at the time fought back when she
declared for the throne, but he didn’t stand a chance at winning. It’s
against the law to kill her kind, and the clan was too much in awe of
her to give him any support.”
She shivered at the stretched rubber band anger in his tone.
“Your current King was able to defeat her in traditional combat.”
“Kriann had help.” Alec polished off his own wine. “Did you look
at the location spell to find Mephile?”
“I already memorized it. Along with most of the runes and some
of the spells.”
The anger in his features smoothed into a look of pride. “That’s
impressive.”
“I didn’t have much to do at work today.” She shrugged as if she
hadn’t ignored all her projects to obsess over the website. “The
runes are pretty simple to draw.”
“You realize you have to draw them in your own blood?”
She nodded a thanks at the server refilling her glass and gulped
down an embarrassing amount of wine. “I did. My reading also
confirmed I’ll need to drink your blood to access my powers.”
 “I understand how the process could be squeamish for you.” He
gifted her with a genuine smile. “But bringing you into your powers
will be the greatest honor of my life.”
It didn’t seem possible she could be this magical being. She’d
been ordinary her whole life. Her artwork, the only thing special
about her. If Alec was right about this agissina thing, it would
change everything. Butterflies swarmed her stomach. She wanted
her powers to be real.
Being an agissina meant more to her than Len’s destruction.
Her heart jumped at the surprising revelation. She set her
wineglass down hard on the table. It didn’t mean she couldn’t still
want revenge. She’d be greedy and wish for both. It was time for
her to have her cake and eat it too.
“Let’s do it tonight.” Air gusted from her lips, excitement sending
her blood pressure sky high. “I’m ready.”

C rystal knelt down on the floor to light the last candle needed for
the location spell. Nervousness quickened her breath, and the lighter
twitched in her hand. She worked on centering herself, picturing the
calm of a lake on a windless day.
Poe shot across the room. His tail had bristled into twice its
normal size. He swatted a massive paw at the air and yowled.
The calm lake in Crystal’s mind disappeared.
Stupid cat. Poe found a bug to chase. He hunted not only mice.
He went after insects too. It was a blessing and a curse. She didn’t
like to feel responsible for the death of any creature. Still, she loved
having a vermin and insect-free home.
Alec sauntered into the living room. He’d switched out his suit for
another pair of jeans and a tight-fitting, blue Henley. If his formal
wear didn’t kill her first, the casual clothes would. Fifi followed in his
wake, jumping fluidly onto her chair to observe the proceedings.
He sniffed the air and chuckled. “It smells like the Parisian
bordello I frequented in the 1600s.”
 She stabbed the lighter at the candlewick, having no issues
lighting it this time. “How many bordellos have you been to?”
“A few.”
“I wouldn’t have guessed you’d be into paying for sex.” She stood
and slammed the lighter into the end table drawer.
He smirked. “Are you jealous?”
“No.” The scowl she couldn’t stop said otherwise.
“The women were very beautiful and tempting, but I didn’t use
them for sex. I prefer my bed partners not to be thinking about
money when they come.” A smile flirted with his lips. “I used them
for blood. When I was young, my mental powers weren’t very
strong.”
She licked her dry lips and imagined him naked. His rock-hard
abs. The sharp cut vee at his pelvis, the trail of dark hair leading
downward. She blacked out the pictures in her head. “What’s it
like?”
“The sex or the blood drinking?”
“I know what sex is like.”
He prowled toward her, panther-sleek, the look of a predator on
his face. “You don’t know what sex is like with me.”
“You wish.” Her ragged breath weakened her retort.
She tilted her head closer to his. His breath drifted over her lips.
Another inch and they’d be kissing.
“I do wish. You have no idea how much.” The blue in his eyes
burnt to black. He blinked, his expression twisting into one of pain.
“But I don’t want to hurt you.”
She pressed a hand to her chest to ease the ache in her heart.
She’d heard this excuse before. He was trying to turn her down
nicely. He’d never wanted her.
“I’ll take your blood now.” She stalked to the couch and sat
down. “I have no interest in anything else.”
“I understand.” His shoulders slumped and he sat down on the
couch next to her “You won’t have to drink much. It should take only
a taste to awaken your magic.” He bit down on his wrist, his eyes
never leaving hers.
 The intensity of his gaze blazed over her like the sun did the
earth. This moment held the power to shift the axis on her world.
His too. Her heart burned in longing for it to be true. If not for
herself…for him. She wanted to find Mephile and free Alec.
He lowered his arm to her. “It’s all for you.”
She stared down at the ruby liquid welling from his wrist. The
thought of drinking his blood should make her gag. It shouldn’t
make her feel powerful, as if she were receiving a precious gift.
“This won’t turn me into a vampire?”
“For that, I’d need to drink from you until your death and change
you. We’d also need the king’s permission.” His eyes turned fierce.
“I’d turn you if you wanted. Permission or not.”
“I’m not interested.” The immediate reply didn’t feel right. The
answer was canned, what she believed she should say to such an
offer. It meant a life alone, outliving everyone she loved. Unless she
had someone at her side.
Someone like Alec.
A veil of sadness fell over her at the impossible idea. She
wrapped her hand around his wrist and held it to her lips. “Will the
transition to agissana hurt?”
“I don’t think so.”
His blood didn’t smell like the copper of her own. It smelled like
the woods at night. Rich. Green. Alive. She swiped her tongue over
his skin. The flavor hit her tastebuds like a mulled wine.
An atom bomb of desire exploded in her core. The aftershock
pulsed wave after wave of lust through her veins. The taut ecstasy
found at the precipice of an orgasm teased the apex of her thighs.
She rocked her hips, needy and eager for release.
It would take only a touch from Alec. The slightest friction and
she’d be crying out in pleasure. It’d be so easy to get on her knees
and beg. To plead for him to take her to bed and make her fantasies
real.
Blood and sex.
The duo carried a siren call. One she craved to answer and
couldn’t. She’d only get hurt when one night made her want more.
Her desire withered, and self-preservation took over. She dropped
his wrist and escaped from the couch.
He let out a ragged moan and reached for her. “Mine. My Mate”
“No.” She backed up to the wall on the other side of the room.
“My mate,” he growled. His chest heaved, gold meshing into the
blue of his eyes.
“Not yours.” She winced as if the denial cut a chunk from her
heart. “Never yours.”
He shuddered and blinked. The gold streaks disappeared from his
irises. “I don’t understand.” The timber in his tone harshened to a
rasp. “It’s never been like this before.”
“Like what?”
“Nothing.” He blinked again. “Do you feel any different?”
Did the fact she’d come close to orgasming from his blood count
as different? Or maybe how she’d wanted to crawl into his arms and
declare herself his forever? “Not really.”
“There’s only one way to know if it worked.” He walked to the
center of the room and withdrew a small silver dagger from his back
pocket.
She joined him, taking the weapon he held out to her. The heft of
the dagger weighed little in her hand. She ran a fingertip along the
blade. The edge would slice an artery without resistance. She dug
the tip of the dagger into her palm and hesitated. “You’ll be able to
heal the damage like you did before when you drank from me? I
need my hands to work.”
“My saliva will heal you like it never happened. But the cut will
hurt.” Shadows fell over his face, as if the idea of her pain hurt him
too. “I’m sorry.”
“At least there aren’t many runes to draw. It should go fast.” She
sliced into the top layers of her skin. She bit the inside of her cheek
to keep from crying. Small droplets of blood hit the floor. She cut
deeper, deep enough a river of dark crimson soon pooled on the
ground.
He shuddered and sniffed the air. “Your blood makes me believe
heaven exists on earth.”
 She laughed loud and hard to distract herself from the throbbing
sting of the cut. “If this is heaven, I’m not an angel.”
“You are to me.” He lifted her palm to his lips and licked the slice
she’d made, his tongue tender.
Her pain vanished, lost to the kiss he brushed against her skin.
His lips were silk. Syrupy-thick lust flowed into her veins. Her vision
fuzzed, a head rush of arousal clouding her brain. She forced out
another hard laugh to distract herself from forcing his head up and
slamming her mouth to his. “Did you forget we’re supposed to be
doing a spell?”
He dropped her hand. Shock crossed his features. An electric
thrill of pride brought a grin to her lips. He’d forgotten everything
but her and her blood.
“It’s truth time.” She knelt to the floor and flinched at the creepy
slipperiness of her own blood on her finger. The three runes were
easy to draw. Wavy lines. Circles. A sun and a crescent moon.
Nothing happened.
Alec’s face fell. Disappointment etched itself into the lines at his
eyes and mouth. He knelt down on the floor next to her. “I don’t
understand. Why isn’t it working?”
“Maybe it’s the wrong symbols? The wiki is confusing.” She
hesitated, her voice small. “Or maybe I’m not an agissana?”
The proof of her human designation hurt. It’d been stupid of her
to believe she was anything more. Crazy things like this didn’t
happen to people like her. Magic belonged to those who weren’t
ordinary. Her insides twisted up tighter than the tie wrap on a loaf of
bread. She didn’t dare breathe. The pain would be unbearable.
He pounded his fist on the floor. “This has to work. I’ll rip my
heart out if I have to live like this much longer.”
“Alec …” She searched for the right words, any words that would
comfort.
“Holy agissina balls.” The solemnity in his whisper held the
holiness of prayer. “It’s working.”
Her blood splashed up to hover above the floor. The red droplets
danced, distorted, and formed intricate patterns in the air.
 Joy lit up her insides. Her heart fizzed and sparkled like a freshly
popped bottle of champagne. She’d created magic. “What’s it
doing?”
His eyes glowed. “It’s waiting for your command.”
The room came in and out of focus. The evidence of her magic,
the revelation of her agissina status, still spun merry-go-round-wild
in her head. She slowed her breath and worked to form the calm
lake into her mind.
Her surroundings ceased their dizzying twirl. She projected out a
command from her throat. “Show me where Mephile is.”
The blood dropped to the floor. The red split into rivers of letters
and narrowed into a scrawl. She read out the words, “The Daily
Perk. 93rd Lansing Street.”
“Son of a bitch.” Alec shot to his feet. “I was there earlier today
for coffee.”
She stopped staring at her blood long enough to stand up.
“That’s weird.”
“Not really.” He gave her a patient look, but tension thrummed
along every line in his face. “They have the best coffee in this city,
and Mephile is a bigger caffeine addict than I am.”
She rushed to grab her car keys from the bowl by the door. “Let’s
go catch a demon.”
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