Resting Witch Face (Stay a Spell, #5)

by Juliette Cross

There was no mistaking what he’d meant. Twelve years ago when I broke up with him, he’d told me he’d let me go. He’d also told me I’d regret it. He’d stayed away from me for a long time.

Then when he didn’t come near me except for coven business or to talk to me for professional reasons in the next months, I figured he’d accepted o...

But we weren’t friends. We couldn’t be. There was no going back to something so mild and basic after what we’d been toge...

Even when I tried to pretend that it never happened, not even telling my sisters the extent of our relationship...

Even years later, I’d wake up in a panic after dreaming of him—tangled limbs, sweat-soaked sheets, bruising grips, and pounding flesh. It would feel so real for that split second before I fully awoke ...

But the softer, sweeter dreams were the worst, cradling me in such tenderness that my heart broke—again—the second I opened my eyes and r...

Still, it had been the right choice. It had been my only choice.

did the thought both thrill and terrify me? Thrilling because the mere hint of being the full focus of Ruben’s attention, of being the object of his desire again, was beyond beguiling.

But terrifying because…well, because I didn’t want to resist him anymore. I wanted him. His words had shocked me because I hadn’t realized he was still even interested after all this time.

We weren’t together anymore, but it had eviscerated me all the same. As if someone had taken a dull knife and carved out my heart, that picture had reminded me why we couldn’t be together.

I was a possessive bitch, and I’d never abide him drinking from others if we were together again. The experience of being bitten was intensely sexual, regardless if there was sex or not during the drinking. Or so I was told.

“Besides, Z,” I told him over my shoulder as I always did when I could be alone like this, “I could never let him drink from me.” Frowning, I turned to Z, who was eating his last crawfish tail. “Could I?” As usual, Z had no answer. He was a terrific listener, though. “No, definitel...

If he was coming for me, then… “Z, I think I’m in big trouble.”

It was kind of a shock to me, too. But I think I was actually ready for Ruben Dubois. Again.

I’d teased him about taking his honeymoon for so long, but he’d reminded me that on my own honeymoon, I’d likely take my pretty little wife far away from the world for much longer. I hadn’t argued if I was ever able to make Jules my wife, then he was absolutely fucking right. I’d take her far away. And they’d be lucky if we ever came back, as far as I was concerned.

I’d only let Beverly keep her job because Jules had insisted she didn’t want her fired. But sure enough, Jules had believed I’d kept her around so I could scratch that itch. If she only fucking knew.

It had always circled in the back of my mind that she was imitating my likes, probably in some effort to become more appealing to me.

But Beverly would never know that or understand. I suppose no one would. Not until I told her. The mere thought of Jules hammered home what must be done.

Yes, I was being a cynical dick, but I’d put up with her flirtation for far too long, ignoring it like it didn’t matter. Apparently, it did, because the woman I wanted most in the world thought I had some sort of relationship with Beverly.

“You’re always taking care of us, of everyone else, but sometimes, someone needs to watch over you.”

“I can bet I know what’s taming his beast. Or rather who.”

He’d stayed out of my way—as I’d asked—for a very long time. The past two years had brought us together more.

“Always a little colder than everyone else.” “I remember.”

I knew Jules wasn’t offering her own throat. If she ever did, I’d likely lose my fucking mind with desire.

I was a patient hunter. I’d waited this fucking long, so I was going to do this right. No spooking my prey. No sudden movements to let her get away.

let her get comfortable with my presence and my intent, let her circle and draw closer by small degrees. It would be a slow, deliberate seduction so that once she was within my reach, she’d be ready for me.

“Damon is capable of letting me feed longer than most,” I said evenly. “I should be good for quite a while now.” As suspected, her head snapped in my direction. I kept my expression smooth, eyes on the road as we crossed Texas, growing closer to Houston.

“Damon? You feed...from men?” “Why wouldn’t I?” I refused to give in to the temptation to look at her and soak in her surprise. “I don’t fuck my blood hosts. For me, there is no sexual exchange.”

I’d recently chosen Damon as my preferred blood host because there were no mixed signals. Oftentimes, women thought I chose them as a prelude to a relationship. It could become awkward and annoying. Since Damon was heterosexual, I knew there would be no chance of him misconstruing this as a ploy to get him into bed.

then was put soundly to bed by her sister who happened to see a text on the drunk sister’s phone of me feeding on another woman.” Alright, so maybe I wasn’t going to move at a snail’s pace. Not when it came to shit like this.

“Isadora told you?” she practically hissed. “As if your sister would betray your confidence.” I scoffed. “It was Devraj.” She bristled, but I was getting exactly what I wanted

“She means nothing to me. And you mean everything, so yes, I fired her. She’s out of the picture. So if it was her, she’s gone now and won’t get in between us again.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Her voice dipped solemnly. “You can feed on whomever you like. We aren’t together.” Pushing past that last gutting sentence,

She wasn’t ready yet, but she was close. So fucking close. I knew it on instinct. Still, I refused to do anything too fast that would set me off course.

I’d die before I did anything to jeopardize reaching it. Before I finally reached her.

“You said it already. We weren’t together. You’d broken up with me. But I’d never broken up with you.” I had continued to behave as if she were still mine. All these long years.

It was perfectly fine if she took her time getting used to what was happening, only so long that she understood I wasn’t backing down or playing nice anymore.

I’d given her space—twelve years of it. That was goddamn long enough.

Grims held a seat at the council but never voiced their opinions or participated in voting. They merely observed.

it became radically clear that Gareth Blackwater was the most powerful supernatural being I’d ever known.

He’d quickly declined and had even shivered in revulsion. It hadn’t escaped my notice that Jules had smiled and replied, “I completely understand.” It made me wonder how heavy the crown was.

“Who the fuck was that?” I managed to ask, barely above a whisper. I was controlling the level of my voice because the fury was too close to the surface. If I loosened the leash, I’d be roaring.

She’d become so serious in her position as Siphon that I began to wonder if I’d ever hear her laugh again.

Right after Mom and Dad moved to Switzerland.” Of course. Another man of power questioning her.

It might sound morbid, and perhaps it was, but after spending enough time with Gareth as an employee and now as a friend, I’d become well aware of the importance and power of information.

She was the same woman I’d met and fallen in love with years ago, but she was also different—more confident and self-assured than the woman I knew then.

She wouldn’t ask me, but I wanted to give her an answer anyway. “You were wonderful.” She closed her eyes for a brief two seconds, and a shift washed over her expression. Relief and joy.

“Not even a little hint?” I asked playfully. There was a moment of shock on his face that I was actually flirting.

And this time, I felt more prepared. I wouldn’t be blindsided by my obsession. My gaze dropped to his mouth again. At least, I hoped I wouldn’t be blindsided.

This was new. I didn’t hesitate at all to make myself vulnerable in Ruben’s presence. Because I trusted him. Why did that realization hit me so hard? Because you didn’t before.