Don't Hex and Drive (Stay a Spell, #2)

by Juliette Cross

Seduction. They all wore it like a coat, parading it around like proud peacocks.

I didn’t dislike men. I just had no need of them. I could handle all of my needs by myself. Which is why Devraj Kumar shouldn’t have gotten under my skin at all. But he so had.

Hitting the witch on her bicycle hadn’t just tilted my world on its axis. It had blown a city-sized hole in it.

Though Ruben wasn’t as old as me, he was old enough to feel the marrow-deep hollow that came with age. And the lack of what we needed to fill that tender emptiness.

That was me. I was Mr. Darcy. Introverted, shy, and nervous in large crowds and around strangers. Except the difference between me and Mr. Darcy was that I had no desire to grow outside my small social circle. Content with everyone on this side of my comfort zone, I definitely had no interest in expanding it to include this vampire.

Or maybe he was protecting his hen, aka me, from the dangerous vampire. What a cutie.

Stygorn. A vampire born of one of the ancients whose level of intuition, gift of glamour, strength, and speed was unparalleled by any other supernatural.

The only one with more power than the Stygorn was a Siphon witch like Jules. Except the Stygorn’s level of power also gave them the ability to evade and/or harm Siphons by stealth.

Clara ran Maybelle’s, but I handled the inventory and bookkeeping. Livvy took care of the marketing and promotions for both the shop and the bar. Violet and Evie waitressed at the Cauldron while Jules was the chef.

Grims weren’t witches, even though some called them sorcerers, but their magic was similar to Auras like Isadora’s sister, Clara. But whereas Auras pumped only positive emotions into others, grims did the opposite. It wasn’t always negative emotions, exactly, but darker ones.

I’d stopped dating a few years ago, immersing myself in happier pursuits. Like gardening. Men just didn’t compare to the joy of hyacinth in bloom, sorry to say.

Are you seriously going to steal my vibrator? I’d say you’re the desperate one if that’s the case.”

I couldn’t dislike this guy when he was kind. And made me tea!

“So tell me, how did you become a hermit?”

“I’m not a damn hermit. Just an introvert.” “There’s a difference?”

Memory echo was a rare gift only Stygorn possessed, but it’s also uncontrollable. Like the magic deems what’s worthy of me to see, for me to know.

Christ. One smile, and I was devastated. Lost. Swimming in an ocean of what-the-fuck.

Glamour was a kind of persuasion that could be used to deceive the senses of others—what humans saw, smelled, tasted, felt.

Her slender body pressed to mine felt like holding home in my arms. I knew then that there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for Isadora Savoie. It also dawned on me that it was getting harder and harder to fool myself. What I wanted with this beautiful witch was anything but casual.

I had to admit a frightening truth to myself. I wanted him.

“And observing what makes you laugh or frown, what makes your heart beat faster.” His thumb brushed my pulse. “It’s one of my favorite pastimes.”

He’s the kind of man I could easily lose my heart to.

Without any attempt on her part, I was completely entranced. This was no fly-by fascination. This was hardcore witchery.

I carried guilt, being forced to drink human blood when I was once a devout Hindu.

I realized that my shy girl only opened up like this for people she trusted. A fact that had warmth blooming in the center of my chest.

And even so, his voice, his beauty, his alluring mannerisms and yes, dammit, his irresistible charm, had me completely trapped. Entranced. Wanting.

His body was a love letter of perfection.

I felt adrift. Unmoored. Lost to any other purpose but the one that mattered. Her.

Because whatever that was, it wasn’t playful. It felt like danger and providence and a shocking dose of destiny. Whereas I was perfectly ready to discuss and explore what that could mean, it was quite obvious that Isadora wasn’t.

What Isadora Savoie didn’t know or understand was that one drop of her blood had set my body on fire. Perhaps my soul, too. Infecting me with a drive I couldn’t suppress even if I wanted to. And I didn’t want to. There was something about her. She’d had me prowling and circling from the moment we met, and that fateful nick on her tongue sealed the deal. I was now on the hunt. For her.

Indulging in Devraj would only hand him the scalpel to make a clean slice through my heart.

I hated conflict of any kind. And though this one was unspoken, I was already mourning the loss of Devraj. Not that I’d ever had him, the way I wanted him.

I didn’t want to see a look of disappointment or hurt in his eyes. It was for our own good. Or at least mine.

But I wanted her in mine. Or maybe I’d give up mine to be in hers. I don’t know.

We two were a sad lot. But unlike Ruben, I wasn’t going to wait a decade to go for my woman.

I needed a man I could fall in love with. One who’d stay.

Bloody hell, I really was a stalker, wasn’t I? This was a terrible revelation. I was reduced to being the creepy guy.

“So quiet. So unassuming. Lingering behind the bold front of your sisters when you hold such power in that pretty body of yours. That pretty mind. That pretty heart.”

“Maybe we’re blood-mates.” “What?” “The legends about vampires finding a pleasure mate in sex and blood-letting.”

“Allegedly, there is only one for every vampire. One who sets his blood and soul on fire when he drinks from her. When he comes inside her. As some have told it, the experience chains her to him as well.”

I’d fallen so hard, I knew she had to be mine. For as long as my heart was beating.

If someone had told me I’d let a guy teach me to drive after he’d once hit me with his car, I’d have told them they’d lost their damn mind.

The man’s body was a marvel, but the man himself—his warm eyes, his deep compassion, his lethal power—was breathtaking. Bone-melting. Soul-stirring. Heart-stealing.

“I’m never letting you go.” And for one blissful moment, I believed him.