Mysteria Nights

She silenced him with a kiss. “Swift River was never this cranky.”

He slid his fingers behind his head as he sighed.

“Quel?” Shay asked, worried.

He sighed again and rubbed her back. “Look, Shay, I’ve never loved anyone—or anything—as much as you. Every day it gets better. But when you get to talking about our ‘first time,’ I get possessive, even though the man you’re referring to is supposedly me.”

“He is you . . .”

“No,” Quel said. “He’s not. I’m me.”

In his voice and words, Shay sensed his disappointment and even jealousy. The mentions of Swift River had cast in doubt that what he shared with her was special between them, and only them. Shay ran guilty fingers over her lover’s handsome face, hoping that what she felt in her newfound heart got through to him. “Quel, it’s not like that. When I look at you, it’s you I see. It’s you I want. It’s you I’m in love with.”

“Yeah, I know.” He smiled. That smile made her heart ache. He had the patience of a saint. She’d made a mistake waiting as long as she had to tell him those words. For as long as she’d walked the earth, she knew shockingly little of affairs of the heart. The past six months had been a learning experience for both her and Quel but most of all for her. She hadn’t been capable of true emotions when she’d bedded Swift River. She was now, making her relationship with Quel a real one. Yes, there were moments she was sure Swift River and Quel Laredo were of the same, reincarnated soul, but the better she’d gotten to know Quel, the more the differences between the two men became apparent. For one, Swift River had been an open book, easy to read. Quel Laredo had been slow to give up his many secrets. Swift River had led a simple if not easy life, limited to the task of survival—his and that of his clan—whereas Quel’s survival had been more complicated. His scars were mostly internal as opposed to Swift River’s visible ones.

She shook her head. No more comparing. It was wrong. “I’m sorry, truly sorry. No more living in the past. From now on, I’m living for today and for however many tomorrows we’re allowed to have.” She poked him in the chest. “I intend to spend every last one of those days with you, Quel Laredo. In the future, when I ask you to camp in the snow, it’s because I feel peace here and want to share it with you, not because of Swift River.”

“Then we’ll continue to come up here.”

“Camping doesn’t have to be,” her voice thickened with mischief, “burger-less.”

“What?”

“Or—” Eager to reveal her surprise, she hopped out from under the covers. From under the bed she pulled a large box, then a small satellite TV. “Football-less!”

He coughed out a laugh of pure surprise. “When did you bring that shit up here?”

She joined him in laughter. “A girl can have her secrets, Laredo.” Next, she pulled out a portable grill and a cooler full of chopped beef, all the fixings, buns, and beer.

Laughing, he watched her, love filling his eyes. Shay popped two of the cans, handing him one. “It’s after five p.m. somewhere in the world,” she reasoned, shrugging.

He raised his drink. “Here’s to the good life.”

“This life. The one we’re going to concentrate on from now on.”

Nodding, he touched the can to hers. “You got that right, angel. You got that right.”

And so it was that the little demon

who’d always dreamed of being human

got her wish and lived happily ever after . . .

A TAWDRY AFFAIR Gena Showalter

To P. C. Cast, Susan Grant, and MaryJanice Davidson. Or, as we would probably be named inside of Mysteria: P. C. Sweetbottoms, Susan Buttercup, and MaryJanice Sugarlips. (Maybe I’d be Gena Dinglehop—that’s wait-and-see, though.) To Wendy McCurdy and Allison Brandau for putting up with me!

One

If Glory Tawdry discovered her sister, Evie, and Evie’s vampire boyfriend going at it like wild cougars one more time—just one more!—she was going to throw up a lung, gouge out her eyes, and cut off her ears.

“You’re disgusting,” she grumbled, standing in Evie’s open bedroom door. Her sister and Hunter must have severe discovery fantasies, because they always “forgot” to barricade themselves inside when things were getting heated.

They didn’t even glance in her direction.

She coughed.

They continued.

Sadly, if Glory walked down the hallway of their modest little three-bedroom home, she’d probably hear her other sister, Godiva, going at it with her boyfriend, a werewolf shape-shifter. They, at least, liked privacy when they were screaming like hyenas.

Still. There was no peace to be found for Glory. Not even in town. Lately Mysteria, a place once known for its evil creature population, as well as a place she’d taken great pride in, had turned into a horrifying love fest of goo- goo eyes and butt pinching.

Except for me. No one makes goo-goo eyes at me. No one pinches my butt, even though there’s enough for everyone to grab on to at the same time. She didn’t care, though. Really.

Men and relationships were so not for her. Really.

“Hello,” she said, trying again. “I’m right here. Can you stop for like a minute?”

Thankfully Evie and Hunter finished their show and collapsed side by side under the covers. Moonlight spilled from the beveled windows and onto the bed, painting them in gold. Both were panting, sweat glistening from their skin. Evie’s dark hair was spread over the pillow and tangled under Hunter’s arm. Vitality radiated from her.

Handsome Hunter looked exhausted and incapable of movement.

Score one for Evie, Glory supposed.

“Oh, Glory.” Evie grinned, happiness sparkling in her hazel eyes. “I didn’t see you there.”

Ugh. Evie did everything happily now, and Glory was seriously embarrassed for her. Evie was the greatest vengeance witch ever to live in Mysteria. As such, she should scowl once in a while. Glory was the love witch, damn it, so Glory should be the happy one.

“Don’t you know how to knock?” her sister asked.

Are you freaking kidding me? “Don’t you know how to close a door? I mean, it’s a difficult task to master, but with hard work and the proper training, I think you might be able to do it.”

Hunter laughed, revealing long, sharp teeth.

“Ha-ha.” Evie punched him on the shoulder.

When Evie said no more, Glory shook her head in disappointment. Used to, they would have argued and insulted each other, maybe yelled and thrown things. Now, she was lucky if Evie frowned at her.

A dysfunctional relationship it had been, but it had been theirs.

“I miss us!” she found herself saying. “You’re a softie now, and it’s killing my excitement levels.”

Understanding dawned, and Evie scowled. Even pointed an accusing finger at her. “Seriously, what’s up with you, little sis? Every day I think you can’t possibly get any bitchier, and then you go and prove me wrong.”