Mysteria Nights

longer.

“I’ll give you a love potion,” he mocked. He’d seen the jealousy flare in her gorgeous eyes when they’d talked about him dating another woman. Glory hadn’t wanted him to sleep with someone else; she just hadn’t wanted to admit she desired him for herself. So he’d make her do it. Because he had to get his hands on her breasts, had to rub himself between her legs. Had to have her taste in his mouth and her pleasure moans in his ears. Then he could hate her magic again. Then he would go back to being a rational male who didn’t need anyone in particular.

He massaged the back of his neck. Hopefully, if he worked this just right, he wouldn’t earn himself another year of impotence. Hopefully, Glory would write the two of them into a sensual scene, and he would be able to finally, blessedly seduce her.

Who would have guessed he’d be reduced to seducing a witch? Not him, definitely. Yet here he was, at home again and picking up the phone to dial an old lover who was still a friend.

When she answered, he said, “I need a favor. And before you say yes, you should know we’ll be dealing with a very powerful and somewhat insane witch.”

And then, when he hung up with Kayla, he called Hunter. His best friend answered, and he said, “Look, I need a favor, and you owe me, so don’t even think about saying no.”

* * *

“Hurry, up, Glor!”

“I’m hurrying, swear.” The moment Glory had sailed through the front door of their home, her sisters had rushed her into the shower. They’d thrown a tight black dress and lacy lingerie at her when she’d emerged.

Now she was in the process of fitting her body into the sheer clothing. She should use the pen to make herself slender again but didn’t want to waste the ink for some silly dinner.

Hunter was taking them to the Love Nest, a five-star restaurant that catered to the affairs of the heart. Gag. She’d rather vomit than go, but Godiva had batted those sweet hazel eyes at her, and she’d found herself agreeing.

Unfortunately, the shower had failed to wash away the trials of the day. Glory had spent six hours in town, hawking her love potions for a little extra spending money. A few times, she’d wondered what she would do if one of the women who’d purchased a vial of Number Nine used it on Falon. Then she’d thought, If he truly loves someone, no potion will sway his heart. Then she’d thought, If he doesn’t love anyone, he’s fair game. Which basically meant Falon was fair game.

The knowledge had settled uneasily inside her, made her twitchy. She’d always considered her powers a blessing. For her, for others. Perhaps Falon was right, though. Perhaps she was a danger to everyone around her. But it wasn’t like she could forsake her powers. They were a part of her.

“We’re going to be late,” Evie said, drawing her from her musings.

“So? I think the restaurant will survive.”

“So Hunter is a vampire and only has a limited amount of time to play. Hurry.”

Glory sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Maybe I should stay home. I’m in a terrible mood. Besides, I should be working. I have a book due in a few months, and I haven’t written a word.”

Now Evie batted hazel eyes at her. “You can put it off for another night. Please. For me.”

She had no willpower when it came to pleasing her sisters. “Fine. I’ll go. What are we celebrating, anyway?”

“The anniversary of the first time Hunter said he loved me.”

Trying not to grimace, Glory spun and faced her sister. “Are you freaking kidding me?”

Clueless, Evie shook her dark head. “No.”

The two lovebirds celebrated everything! The anniversary of the first time they had laid eyes on each other. The anniversary of the first time they had made love. The anniversary of Hunter’s change from human to vampire. It was truly sickening. “Isn’t that something the two of you should celebrate alone?”

“We will.” Evie’s lips curled slowly, suggestively. “Later.”

Godiva peeked her pale head around the door. “Ready, sister dear? Oh, my.” Her body rounded the rest of the corner, and then she was walking forward, expression warm. “You look gorgeous.”

There wasn’t a single malicious cell in her oldest sister. The woman was pure gentleness and had always been that way. “I feel silly,” she admitted. She faced the full-length mirror.

The black dress flowed gracefully over her hips, gossamer, like a butterfly’s wing. But with her arms stretched down at her sides, the hem did not even reach her fingertips. Thin straps held the material in place on her shoulders. A beaded empire waist cinched everything in just under her breasts, before flaring and floating free.

Overall, the dress was a naughty version of a Grecian toga. On her feet, she wore strappy black sandals. Her toenails were painted a vivid shade of emerald.

“You’ve always been the most beautiful of us,” Godiva said.

“Hey.” Evie frowned at their oldest sister. “I’m standing right here. What am I, dog food?”

Godiva waved a hand in dismissal. “You’ve always been the firecracker.”

“You’ve always been the peacemaker,” Glory said, “and let’s be real. I’ve always been the—”

“Nope,” Godiva interjected, gripping her shoulders and spinning her. “I’m not going to allow you to put yourself down. You are an amazing woman, and it’s time you realized that.”

Fighting tears, Glory kissed her sister softly on the cheek. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Evie threw her arms around them with such force, they gasped. “I love you guys, too. Now let’s haul ass! And, Glory, bring your pen. You know, just in case.”

Everything inside of her froze with dread. “Just in case what?” Each word was punctuated with warning. Had Evie done something?

“Who knows? It’s a beautiful night. Anything can happen.”

“I never thought I’d see you like this.”

Falon eyed Kayla Smith from across their candlelit table. She was a beautiful woman with pale hair, bright blue eyes, and legs that went on forever. Sadly, she did nothing for him. Not anymore.

She was cousin to Candy Cox, the infamous high school teacher now dating a werewolf; was fully human; and had lived in Mysteria so long she found nothing unusual about vampires, goblins, fairies, or witches. They’d dated on and off for a few months, realized they were working themselves into a relationship, and had backed off. Neither of them had wanted to be tied down. He’d always liked that about her. She was fun and playful and never took anything too seriously. Even men.

But he found himself wondering how Glory had been with past boyfriends. Fun and playful, which he decided he no longer liked? Hopefully, Glory had been miserable with other men. Or had she been serious, which for some reason he liked even less. Fine. He just didn’t like the thought of Glory with another man, period.

More, he found that he didn’t like the fact that he didn’t know everything about her. Suddenly he yearned to know what she ate for breakfast, what her favorite song was, what she dreamed for her life, if she liked to snuggle and watch movies in bed. And if so, were they romantic comedies or action adventure? Probably slashers.

“Are you listening to me?” Kayla asked him.

No. What the hell had she just said? Oh, yeah. She’d never seen him like this. “Yes, of course I was listening. What way do you think you see me?” he asked, his gaze immediately straying back to the restaurant’s front door. Where was Glory?

“On edge for a specific woman.” There was laughter in her voice. “By the way, you missed a very scintillating conversation I just had with, apparently, myself about a hot tub.”

He waved the hot tub away with a dismissive hand. Although, Glory, wet and naked . . . “I’ll get her out of my system.” He hoped. “Don’t worry.” With every minute that passed, he just wanted her more.

How would she react when she saw him with Kayla?

Hopefully—how many things was he hopeful about now?—her sisters had convinced her to bring the pen. Hopefully, she would write them into a bedroom. Maybe chain him to the headboard. Yes, chains could definitely come in handy.

The front door to the restaurant opened. He stiffened, poised on the edge of his seat.