Mysteria Nights

he saw (which would have been her). Instead, she’d made nearly every woman in Mysteria, a town known for its weirdness, fall into instant lust with him. Even her sisters had been trapped under the spell. For days the entire female population had followed him everywhere, ripping at his clothes, begging him to make love to them.

“Even if the wolf saw you before,” Glory said, the sound of her voice breaking into Genevieve’s thoughts, “that’s not reason enough for him to respond so favorably to you. He acts like he adores you.” She frowned. “Hey, did you give him one of my love potions?”

“Of course not,” Godiva said. “I think he senses that I mean him no harm.”

At Glory’s words, a wonderfully frightening idea danced inside Genevieve’s mind, an idea she’d always discarded before—and no, she wasn’t going to injure Hunter to gain his attention (although she wouldn’t rule that out, the sexy bastard). What if she drank a love potion? What if she made herself so irresistible he wouldn’t think of turning her away? She’d never dared drink one before; there were simply too many uncertain variables.

For one night in his arms, though, she was now willing to risk it. Risk the deflation of her inhibitions, the danger of enticing the love of a legion of other men. The danger of loving him forever and him only loving her for a single night. Hell, she already loved him and she didn’t see an end in sight for the emotion. For Hunter, she’d risk anything. Everything. Except . . .

Genevieve uttered a sigh. Did she really want to win him because of a potion and not because he simply wanted her? Yes, she decided in the next instant. The stubborn man needed a push in the right direction, and she was tired of waiting for that to happen naturally. Her patience was frayed beyond repair.

Besides, if she had to watch him flirt and laugh with another woman one more time, just one more time, she’d fly into a rampage worthy of the Desdaine triplets, the town’s most notorious troublemakers.

Now that she had a plan, urgency rushed through her. She glanced at the clock above the refrigerator. Ten P.M. Knight Caps, Hunter’s bar, would be open for at least four more hours.

“Will you be okay on your own?” she asked Godiva.

“Hey, she’s not alone. I’m here,” Glory said with a pout.

“Oh, sorry. Will you be okay with Glory standing in the shadows and doing nothing?”

“I’ll be fine.” Godiva nodded. “Candy Cox should be here any minute. She’s going to sit with me.” Candy— oops, Candice—was the high school English teacher and Godiva’s best friend. “My big boy is finally resting peacefully. Why? Are you going out?”

“Yes.” She offered no other explanation. Neither of her sisters approved of her obsession with Hunter.

“Where are you going?” Glory asked suspiciously. She inched to the kitchen table, keeping the long length of the hand-carved mahogany between herself and the wolf.

“I’m. Going. Out.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” She paused, then her pretty face scrunched in disgust. “You’re going to see him, aren’t you?”

Genevieve’s back went ramrod straight. “So what if I am? You got something to say about it?”

“Nope. Not a word. Except, if you want to make a fool of yourself over him again, go for it. Just know that the town isn’t laughing with you, they’re laughing at you.”

Her fists clenched at her sides. “You’re just begging for a piece of me, Glor.”

Awakening, the wolf raised his head, his lips pulling tight over his fangs.

“Don’t listen to them,” Godiva cooed at him. She smothered her fingers over his thick fur, giving her sisters a pointed glare. “They’re both going to rot in the fires of hell, just like Pastor Harmony says.”

“Harmony didn’t say we were going to hell,” Glory said. “She embraces every one of every religion, and she says only evil people go to hell.”

“Exactly.”

As they argued, anticipation and nervousness zinged through Genevieve’s veins. Not for the proposed trip into hell, but for the coming night. Now that she’d decided to do it, to love-potion the pants right off of Hunter, she didn’t want to waste another minute. “Glory, I’d like to talk with you privately,” she said sweetly. She motioned to the living room with a tilt of her chin. “I don’t want to fight.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Okay, stay here then. I’m sure the wolf won’t regain full strength soon and be disoriented and afraid. He won’t fly into a rampage and—”

Glory jolted backward with a gasp. “Alright. Fine.” One tiny step, two, she scooted around the table, around the wolf. “I’ll meet you in the living room.”

Dissatisfied with such a gradual pace, Genevieve reached out, grabbed her younger sister’s hand, and tugged her into the next room. In the center, she whirled. She was almost bubbling over. Tonight might be the night all her dreams came true.... Glory’s love potions were legendary. Each sister specialized in a different area of magic. While she herself wielded the darkest power, that over vengeance, Godiva’s strength was in healing, both spiritual and physical, and Glory’s was in love.

“I want to drink one of your love potions. And don’t say no.”

Glory pursed her lips and crossed her arms over her chest. “How about: hell, no.”

“Please.”

“Nein. Nay. Non.”

She pushed out a frustrated breath. “Why not?”

“Evie,” her sister said, her expression softening, “he’s not good enough for you. When are you going to realize that? I’m more inclined to turn him into an impotent troll than help you win his affections.”

“It’s one night, Glor. What can that hurt?”

“It wouldn’t be one night for you. You’d want more.”

True. So true. Deep down, she hoped Hunter would be so enthralled by her that he’d become addicted to her touch. “If he doesn’t want me after the potion, I’ll take a blood oath never to speak to him again.” A small lie, really, since she only planned to leave out one word. Never.

“Sorry.”

“Please. I’ll bake those eye of newt muffins you love so much.”

“Oh, you bitch. I love those.” Several minutes passed in thick, brooding silence, before she shook her head. “Nope, sorry. I simply can’t allow you to endure more hurt because of him.”

“I’ll wreak vengeance upon your greatest enemy. I’ll go total witch on their ass.”

Glory opened her mouth, then closed it with a snap. Opened. Closed. Her hazel eyes gleamed hopefully, glowing with otherworldly power like they did just before a spell. “Horrible, painful vengeance?”

“Yes.”

“Even if it’s, say, against Falon Ryis?”

“Hunter’s best friend? He’s your greatest enemy?” Genevieve blinked in surprise. “I didn’t know you and Falon had even spoken to each other. Ever.”

Glory’s jaw clenched stubbornly. “I’m not going to explain. You make his life miserable, I’ll give you the potion. Take it or leave it.”

She didn’t have to think about her answer. “I’ll take it.”

Glory slowly smiled. “Then the potion is yours.”

“Thank you, thank you!” With a joyous whoop, she threw her arms around her sister. Sometimes family was a wonderful thing.

“What’s going on in there?” Godiva called.

Glory said, “Genevieve accidentally conjured a male stripper, and we’re placing dollar bills in his G-string. Just ignore us.”

“Ha, ha. Very funny,” came the muffled reply. Then, “I’ll be there in a sec.”

“Come on.” Glory extracted herself from the bear hug and flounced down the candlelit hall, through thickly painted shadows, toward their bedrooms. “It’s in my room. I really hope you know what you’re doing,” she murmured.

Did she? Genevieve mused. Not really. Did she care? Hell, no. Thoughts of lying naked in Hunter’s arms eclipsed all else. He’d trace his fingers over her breasts, roll her nipples between his fingers. He’d kiss a path down