Witches Get Stitches (Stay a Spell, #3)

by Juliette Cross

Jules had congratulated me on my new venture and didn’t once make me feel guilty, but I did anyway. I was devoted to my family, and leaving this place had taken a lot longer than I’d planned.

And now I realized why I really hadn’t wanted to come tonight. Because Nico at work was distracting. But Nico in his natural habitat—a dimly lit bar where his voice resonated in the air like a dark angel—was temptation incarnate.

Whenever I got the urge to say fuck it and jump his bones, I remembered those fateful three cards—Death, Three of Swords, the Tower.

Charlie and JJ were also the kind of best friends who should’ve crossed the friendzone into manland a long ass time ago. But they were stubborn bastards, both pretending they didn’t want to tear each other’s clothes off on a daily basis. Or perhaps JJ was in deep, deep denial.

It might be easier to ignore my craving for the man if I didn’t know what his mouth felt like on my pussy. But unfortunately—or actually SUPER fortunately—I did know. That, in addition to everything else, including his perfect hard-jawed, wide-mouthed, green-eyed face made resisting him so much harder.

I was the kind of woman who typically followed my instincts and spontaneous desires, never denying to sit on a pretty face when I wanted to. And let’s be real, Nico had a face worth sitting upon.

Also, everyone knew it wasn’t smart to mix business with pleasure. I mean, I wasn’t saying I had a magical pussy or anything, but men had been known to stalk me a time or two after a night in my bed.

Sex complicated things. And Empress Ink was my brainchild, my little dream taking flight. It didn’t need complications. It needed simplicity and success. So, there would be no sitting on Nico’s fuckable face.

“Thanks.” I took a sip. “Hey, tell your bestie to stay out of my sex life.” “Interesting, because I thought the problem was you had no sex life.”

I shrugged. “It would just make things weird and awkward once it was over.” Plus, grinning skeletons and stabby swords through hearts and burning towers! “If you say so. Then again, maybe it would be more than sex.”

Yes, I knew. And I wished he was the one, but that asshole fate had other plans apparently.

“You should stop sowing your oats and plow some fields. Maybe something would grow.”

I laughed. “You do know that I’m a psychic, right?” I tossed my cocktail straw on the bar behind me and took a big swallow. “I’ve done a reading for you, ya know.”

“I did. On my own. Because I had to know if I was right. I was, of course. And I know good and well that you two”—I gestured between Charlie and JJ serving beer at the other end—“need to get the party started.”

“You’re deflecting again, darling. The topic was whether or not you have big enough balls to actually engage in more than a one-night stand.” “I’ll have you know I’ve dated a guy for a solid month before. And my balls are plenty big, thank you very much.”

“Personally, if I knew that someone I was hot for was hot for me, I wouldn’t be waiting around and wasting time.” Charlie’s gaze on the stage grew dreamy. “I mean, just look at him.”

Nico was singing a slow and smoky rendition of “Lovely” by Billie Eilish, the tenor of his voice wrapping my chest in a vise. It made me agitated. And horny.

And that was when something happened that never ever happened to me. I got nervous. My heart skipped a beat, and a cold sweat flushed the back of my neck. What was going on? It was just Nico. I was just bringing him a beer…after Charlie had bullied me into agreeing to act on my attraction. I’d ignored it this long, so why would I do this? It was like my instincts had just grabbed the wheel, yelling at logic in the backseat to shut the fuck up.

pretended I wasn’t mulling over life-changing decisions—like ignoring the cards and Aunt Beryl’s vision—as I paraded around the tables to bring him the beer.

Maybe moon metaphors were cliché where a werewolf was concerned, but that was damn sure how it felt. An undeniabl...

“What’s the special occasion?” he asked as he balanced the beer on one knee, the other holding his guitar. “Pardon?” He chuckled, his brow pinching in confusion. “I’ve never heard you use that word in my life.”

“Hopefully, she’ll live up to the reputation Zaire painted of her and won’t need hand-holding.”

“I think she’s attractive, so now you’re assuming I want to sleep with her?” I scoffed. “That tends to be the usual progression for most guys.”

His wolf was near. Strange. Well, not so strange. The full moon was in a few days. There was a pressure, a push of dominance, rolling off of him, yet his demeanor was all cool and composed.

Then I looked back at the empty beer bottle in my hand, wondering why in the hell I’d decided to bring him a beer. It felt like a girlfriend move, not a business partner move. Girlfriend? Had I truly lost my mind? Why was I thinking things like this?

I needed to get out of this room filled with his intoxicating voice and my crazy ideas that included words like plowing and relationship and girlfriend.

At first, I thought Sean was a bit out of his depth and wouldn’t know a good program from a bad one. After all, he was only seventeen. I was wrong after conferring with Ruben, the vampire overlord and family friend, who owned several successful businesses himself.

The bakery across from the Cauldron, Queen of Tarts, was Clara’s favorite place to buy sweets for her High Tea Book Club gatherings, so I picked up some lemon berry petit fours and chocolate raspberry tarts.

“Thought we could have some refreshments to welcome our final staff member of Empress Ink.”

To hear the kid talk about profit margins was a little surreal, but also comforting. We’d hired him as a favor to Ruben who’d asked on behalf of his brother, Henry Blackwater, a grim who worked for him. Turns out, the favor was no favor at all. Sean was kind of a whiz kid.

I stood and walked over to my workspace, uncertain why I was hesitating. Maybe because I’d never done a reading in front of Nico. Still, why would that make me nervous? It was like my magic knew something that I didn’t. Yet.

My nerves were jittery, and I still wasn’t sure why. My psychic line was already tapping along my bloodstream, pouring a shot of adrenaline through my body like an electric volt.

“Ten of cups,” I said with a smile and through gritted teeth. The card I’d been wanting to pull forever. Specifically when it came to the man sitting next to her. Oh, no. Please don’t let the card be about her and Nico. Please.

“Yeah.” I laughed. “It’s a great one actually.” I cleared my throat, staring at the card and not her or the man boring a hole into my face with his gaze. “It means divine love and complete joy in relationships. Harmony in romantic love. So it looks like you’ll be finding your true love here in New Orleans.”

Ignoring Sean, I went on to add to Lindsey, “It also means bliss at home and true emotional fulfillment. So I’d say life looks good for you here.”

I focused my eyes on the deck, trying to ignore my racing pulse and the thrumming of my magic streaking like wildfire through my body. It was the kind of channeling of magic I usually only felt when in the witch’s round with my sisters to recharge our energy. I was surprised I wasn’t glowing like a lightning bug.

“So this card means, um, obviously physical love and harmony in relationships.” “In my near future,” added Nico.

Nico was laid back on a sofa I didn’t recognize with me lying beside him, my head at the other end. I was massaging his feet that were in my lap, and then I said something that made him laugh. Then his gaze turned molten hot, and he licked his lips and—

Somehow, I felt branded by that featherlight touch. He was telling me something without saying a word. Stubborn as I was, I didn’t want to listen, but my body sure as hell got the message loud and clear. I took my phone and ran like the coward I was, though I was pretty sure he wouldn’t let me run forever.

I ran over and swung open the door to see Clara in her pink-and-white striped pajama shorts and tank-top chasing Isadora’s dog Archie, who was chasing my rooster Fred. Zombie Cat was perched on the top of Fred’s chicken coop watching the mayhem, his tail swaying leisurely.

“Don’t you dare, Violet!” Clara shouted, knowing full well what I was about to do. “I’m gonna do it.” “No, you’re not!” “It won’t hurt him.” “It will. It’ll scare him.” “We won’t catch his little ass if we don’t.”

Her hair was sleep-mussed—or probably sex-mussed with those two—but she still looked like a fairy queen dashing across his yard. I should probably say Devraj and Isadora’s yard since she lived there more than at our house now.

“Dev said he’d set up a camera so we can figure it out. I swear, I think the dog might be magic.” Iz huffed out a laugh. “So sorry, Vi.”

Not that I had ever wondered, but this was visual proof why Isadora spent so much alone time at his house. The man—or rather, vampire—looked like a walking sex god.

My gaze strayed from the large mandala tattoo that fully covered one shoulder to the smaller mandala with shades of green and blue just below on the side of his ribcage, the one I’d given him about a month ago.

“It’s unbelievable. It’d been a month since I fed when you gave me that tattoo. We’re going on two months, and I haven’t had any cravings at all.”

I was marveling at the fact that my spelled tattoo was legit working on him.

To be honest, I’d tried twice before, simply spelling the outline of the new mandala I tattooed to his ribcage, but it didn’t work. I enchanted the blue ink and shaded in the mandala with my second incantation, but it still hadn’t worked. Apparently, third time’s a charm.

Devraj happened to be a vegetarian, which totally sucked for a vampire—no pun intended—who had to drink blood in order to stay alive. He was also a three-hundred-year-old, powerful as fuck vampire, so he’d gone over a month without feeding before. Most vamps couldn’t go near as long. He’d told me that after two m...

“I can’t believe it.” I caught Clara’s eye. “It’s working!” “Of course, it is. You’re a brilliant, gifted witch.”