Mysteria Nights

“Waffling. Unfulfilled romance. Missed opportunities. All because of your insane need for control.”

“Yes. And my need for control is not insane. Anyway, as per usual for my high school days, overnight I grew the biggest, nastiest zit right in the middle of my forehead. No amount of makeup would cover it. It was like I had a third eye.”

“Yuck.”

“Yeah. So I asked Glory to cast a zit spell on me.”

“Goddess! There’s such a thing as a zit spell?”

Summer nodded. “She got the spell from her sister, Evie. You know she’s a vengeance witch.”

“Oh, that’s right. Okay, go on.”

“Well, it should have been simple enough. I wanted the zit gone. I have opposite magic. Glory casts a spell to fill my face with zits, which should have totally cleared my face of zits.”

“It does sound simple enough.”

“It didn’t work out that way.”

“What happened?”

“It cleared my face. Of everything.”

“Everything?”

“Absolutely everything. I had no gigantic zit, but I also had no eyes, nose, or mouth.”

“Shit! What did you do?”

“Freaked out. I knew it was bad, because I couldn’t see anything, but when Glory started screaming, ‘Oh great Goddess help! Her face is gone,’ I lost it. I tried to scream with her, couldn’t, so I did what any normal girl would do when scared shitless and utterly blind.”

“You ran?”

“Yep. And promptly fell over my cool fuchsia beanbag chair, smacking my head on the corner of my very large and very metallic stereo cabinet, which negated the spell. Thank the Goddess.”

“So your face came back?”

Summer nodded. “Along with the Cyclops zit. See, that’s what happens when I think I’m smart, take a chance, and let my opposite magic do its thing. It never works exactly opposite. It’s more like sideways, around- the-corner, upside-down magic. And the spell only goes away if something major happens to me.”

“Like smacking your head.”

“Like smacking my head.”

“Okay, I get that that was bad, and your control issues are making more and more sense, but have you ever tried to control your magic instead of controlling yourself?”

“Huh?”

“Think about it. You have weird magic, fine. Besides that, you have strong weird magic. How you’ve dealt with it is to clamp down major control over everything else in your life, but maybe all you have to do is to take control of your magic—you know, show it who’s boss—and make it act right.”

Summer shook her head. “You’re nuts.”

“I’m just sayin’ discipline can be a good thing.”

“Sure, for someone who is comfortable with it,” Summer said.

“So get comfortable with it.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Maybe you just need the right incentive,” Jenny said. “Want me to give you a quick dominatrix lesson or twelve? It’d be fun.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I think I’ll just bumble along as I am, which means no ‘helpful’ magic spells from you or anyone else. Okay?”

Jenny held up her hand like she was taking an oath. “Promise.” Then she added, “Guess it looks like you’re going to have to get a handle on your übercontrol issues and your bizarre magic.”

Summer sighed. “Sadly, it looks like it.”

“Well, never fear. You have a Certified Discipline Nymph on your side. Plus, Kenny-benny may surprise both of us and take forceful control of your date tonight and ravish you properly.” Jenny giggled and then, at Summer’s frown, cleared her throat and sobered up. The bus lurched to an awkward halt in front of Dark Shadows, Mysteria’s only art gallery. “But before anyone gets ravished, we will edify and educate the masses.” She winked at Summer, stood up, smoothed her hair, and faced the bus full of teenagers. “Touch anything and you will have to deal with me—before school in the boy’s restroom with a toothbrush, a can of Comet, and a collection of Shakespearian sonnets.”

“What’re the poems for?” whispered a voice from the silent, staring students.

“To clean your minds out while your hands—your gloveless hands—clean out the urinals,” Jenny said sweetly. She turned around and, to a chorus of gagging sounds from the students, grinned at Summer. “Let’s go, shall we?” Jenny sashayed from the bus, leading the way into the gallery with Summer and the well-disciplined students following close behind her.

Summer thought entering the gallery was like leaving one world for another. Inside the spacious building it was cool and dark. Even from the foyer she could see that instead of the usual plain white expanse of gallery walls, Dark Shadows had been painted in unyielding black, broken only by spotlights trained on each painting so that the entire exhibit gave the impression of floating dreams poised on the surface of a dark, sleeping sea.

“Wow, it’s been years since I’ve been here, and I’d forgotten how dramatic the black walls make this place,” Summer told Jenny in a hushed voice.

“Yeah, Barnabas told me that he hadn’t planned the effect. He’d painted everything black only because it’s easier on his vampire senses. The weirdness of it was just a happy by-product.”

“Well, vampires gross me out with their definitely non-vegan diet, but there’s something about this place that I like, even if it is a little creepy and—”

“Ladies, how may I help you?”

At the sound of the deep voice, Summer jumped guiltily and looked up . . . and up . . . and up into the face of a god of a man. He was standing just inside the shadowy entrance of the gallery, and even though it was dark and cool within, he was wearing mirrored sunglasses. As she blinked at her own reflection in those glasses, the man slowly reached up and removed them, revealing eyes so dark they looked black. His gaze locked with hers. Gorgeous, dark, dangerous were the descriptive words that flitted through her mind. “You’re not Barnabas,” she said abruptly.

One black brow lifted. “Astute observation, ma’am.”

“Oooh, you must be Colin, Barnabas’s older brother. Tell me I’m right, handsome,” Jenny demanded, flipping her hair coquettishly.

“You’re right.” His eyes sparkled playfully when he turned to Jenny. “And you must be a Certified Discipline Nymph.”

“Smart and handsome—my second-favorite combination,” Jenny said.

“Your first favorite?” Colin asked with a sexy smile.

“Smart, handsome, and bound by the wrists,” Jenny said.

Summer felt the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she cleared her throat and said, “High school field trip— students—right behind us. Remember?”

Jenny shrugged, barely glancing at the wide-eyed students. “I’m just being friendly. But you’re right. We should get down to business.” The purr in her voice said that she’d rather go down on Colin than get down to any other business.

Summer frowned at Jenny and then stuck her hand out to Colin. “Hello, I’m Miss Smith. I sent the e-mail several days ago reserving the gallery for the field trip this morning. I’m assuming that’s still okay, even though your brother isn’t here?”

Colin took her hand in his, and Summer had to force herself not to gasp. His grip was strong, but she’d expected that. He was, after all, a very big man who had very big hands. It was the temperature of his skin that shocked her. Being touched by him was like being touched by an awakened statue. His hand was smooth, hard, and cool. Their eyes met again, and Summer was jolted by the dark intensity with which he was studying her—as if she was, at that moment, the most important thing in his universe. She’d only known of one species of Mysteria’s creatures who could spear someone with such intensity and whose