Mysteria Nights

by P. C. Cast

  And what if . . . what if he truly desired her? What if he enjoyed being with her?

  What if: the most dangerous words known to man.

  “I just can’t,” she forced herself to say. Her voice cracked, just like her defenses. She had to swallow a sudden lump in her throat. “My answer is and will always be no. Find someone else.”

  “You want me to sleep with another woman?” he gasped out, incredulous.

  “Yes?” she replied, a question she’d meant as a statement.

  “You won’t care?”

  “No.” Her hands curled into fists as rage swam through her bloodstream. She’d destroy anyone he touched. Obliterate anyone he—What are you doing? Stop thinking like that! “I can give you a love potion for the woman if you think it’d help.” Idiot! What are you saying?

  I thought I was supposed to push him—oh, never mind. Damage done.

  Scowling, he jackknifed to his feet. “You want me to be with someone else, I’ll be with someone else. I don’t need a fucking love potion to do it, either. See you around, Glory.”

  Glory watched him stride from her bedroom, heard the front door slam. Her shoulders sagged against the chair, and she covered her mouth with a shaky hand. What the hell had she just done?

  Six

  He’d made the boast to see another woman. Now he had to see it through. Shit, Falon thought. But if he had to prod Glory’s temper until she snapped and used that stupid pen, he’d do it. Do anything to have her in his arms again. What’s happened to me? He’d gone from hating her powers to craving them. He just flat-out refused to be ignored by her any longer.

  “I’ll give you a love potion,” he mocked. He’d seen the jealousy flare in her gorgeous eyes when they’d talked about him dating another woman. Glory hadn’t wanted him to sleep with someone else; she just hadn’t wanted to admit she desired him for herself. So he’d make her do it. Because he had to get his hands on her breasts, had to rub himself between her legs. Had to have her taste in his mouth and her pleasure moans in his ears. Then he could hate her magic again. Then he would go back to being a rational male who didn’t need anyone in particular.

  He massaged the back of his neck. Hopefully, if he worked this just right, he wouldn’t earn himself another year of impotence. Hopefully, Glory would write the two of them into a sensual scene, and he would be able to finally, blessedly seduce her.

  Who would have guessed he’d be reduced to seducing a witch? Not him, definitely. Yet here he was, at home again and picking up the phone to dial an old lover who was still a friend.

  When she answered, he said, “I need a favor. And before you say yes, you should know we’ll be dealing with a very powerful and somewhat insane witch.”

  And then, when he hung up with Kayla, he called Hunter. His best friend answered, and he said, “Look, I need a favor, and you owe me, so don’t even think about saying no.”

  “Hurry, up, Glor!”

  “I’m hurrying, swear.” The moment Glory had sailed through the front door of their home, her sisters had rushed her into the shower. They’d thrown a tight black dress and lacy lingerie at her when she’d emerged.

  Now she was in the process of fitting her body into the sheer clothing. She should use the pen to make herself slender again but didn’t want to waste the ink for some silly dinner.

  Hunter was taking them to the Love Nest, a five-star restaurant that catered to the affairs of the heart. Gag. She’d rather vomit than go, but Godiva had batted those sweet hazel eyes at her, and she’d found herself agreeing.

  Unfortunately, the shower had failed to wash away the trials of the day. Glory had spent six hours in town, hawking her love potions for a little extra spending money. A few times, she’d wondered what she would do if one of the women who’d purchased a vial of Number Nine used it on Falon. Then she’d thought, If he truly loves someone, no potion will sway his heart. Then she’d thought, If he doesn’t love anyone, he’s fair game. Which basically meant Falon was fair game.

  The knowledge had settled uneasily inside her, made her twitchy. She’d always considered her powers a blessing. For her, for others. Perhaps Falon was right, though. Perhaps she was a danger to everyone around her. But it wasn’t like she could forsake her powers. They were a part of her.

  “We’re going to be late,” Evie said, drawing her from her musings.

  “So? I think the restaurant will survive.”

  “So Hunter is a vampire and only has a limited amount of time to play. Hurry.”

  Glory sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Maybe I should stay home. I’m in a terrible mood. Besides, I should be working. I have a book due in a few months, and I haven’t written a word.”

  Now Evie batted hazel eyes at her. “You can put it off for another night. Please. For me.”

  She had no willpower when it came to pleasing her sisters. “Fine. I’ll go. What are we celebrating, anyway?”

  “The anniversary of the first time Hunter said he loved me.”

  Trying not to grimace, Glory spun and faced her sister. “Are you freaking kidding me?”

  Clueless, Evie shook her dark head. “No.”

  The two lovebirds celebrated everything! The anniversary of the first time they had laid eyes on each other. The anniversary of the first time they had made love. The anniversary of Hunter’s change from human to vampire. It was truly sickening. “Isn’t that something the two of you should celebrate alone?”

  “We will.” Evie’s lips curled slowly, suggestively. “Later.”

  Godiva peeked her pale head around the door. “Ready, sister dear? Oh, my.” Her body rounded the rest of the corner, and then she was walking forward, expression warm. “You look gorgeous.”

  There wasn’t a single malicious cell in her oldest sister. The woman was pure gentleness and had always been that way. “I feel silly,” she admitted. She faced the full-length mirror.

  The black dress flowed gracefully over her hips, gossamer, like a butterfly’s wing. But with her arms stretched down at her sides, the hem did not even reach her fingertips. Thin straps held the material in place on her shoulders. A beaded empire waist cinched everything in just under her breasts, before flaring and floating free.

  Overall, the dress was a naughty version of a Grecian toga. On her feet, she wore strappy black sandals. Her toenails were painted a vivid shade of emerald.

  “You’ve always been the most beautiful of us,” Godiva said.

  “Hey.” Evie frowned at their oldest sister. “I’m standing right here. What am I, dog food?”

  Godiva waved a hand in dismissal. “You’ve always been the firecracker.”

  “You’ve always been the peacemaker,” Glory said, “and let’s be real. I’ve always been the—”

  “Nope,” Godiva interjected, gripping her shoulders and spinning her. “I’m not going to allow you to put yourself down. You are an amazing woman, and it’s time you realized that.”

  Fighting tears, Glory kissed her sister softly on the cheek. “I love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  Evie threw her arms around them with such force, they gasped. “I love you guys, too. Now let’s haul ass! And, Glory, bring your pen. You know, just in case.”

  Everything inside of her froze with dread. “Just in case what?” Each word was punctuated with warning. Had Evie done something?

  “Who knows? It’s a beautiful night. Anything can happen.”

  “I never thought I’d see you like this.”

  Falon eyed Kayla Smith from across their candlelit table. She was a beautiful woman with pale hair, bright blue eyes, and legs that went on forever. Sadly, she did nothing for him. Not anymore.

  She was cousin to Candy Cox, the infamous high school teacher now dating a werewolf; was fully human; and had lived in Mysteria so long she found nothing unusual about vampires, goblins, fairies, or witches. They’d dated on and off for a few months, realized they were working themselves into a relationship, and had backed off.
Neither of them had wanted to be tied down. He’d always liked that about her. She was fun and playful and never took anything too seriously. Even men.

  But he found himself wondering how Glory had been with past boyfriends. Fun and playful, which he decided he no longer liked? Hopefully, Glory had been miserable with other men. Or had she been serious, which for some reason he liked even less. Fine. He just didn’t like the thought of Glory with another man, period.

  More, he found that he didn’t like the fact that he didn’t know everything about her. Suddenly he yearned to know what she ate for breakfast, what her favorite song was, what she dreamed for her life, if she liked to snuggle and watch movies in bed. And if so, were they romantic comedies or action adventure? Probably slashers.

  “Are you listening to me?” Kayla asked him.

  No. What the hell had she just said? Oh, yeah. She’d never seen him like this. “Yes, of course I was listening. What way do you think you see me?” he asked, his gaze immediately straying back to the restaurant’s front door. Where was Glory?

  “On edge for a specific woman.” There was laughter in her voice. “By the way, you missed a very scintillating conversation I just had with, apparently, myself about a hot tub.”

  He waved the hot tub away with a dismissive hand. Although, Glory, wet and naked . . . “I’ll get her out of my system.” He hoped. “Don’t worry.” With every minute that passed, he just wanted her more.

  How would she react when she saw him with Kayla?

  Hopefully—how many things was he hopeful about now?—her sisters had convinced her to bring the pen. Hopefully, she would write them into a bedroom. Maybe chain him to the headboard. Yes, chains could definitely come in handy.

  The front door to the restaurant opened. He stiffened, poised on the edge of his seat.

  Godiva strolled inside, directly behind her was her boyfriend, Romeo, tall and muscled and very wolfish. Falon’s stomach rolled into a thousand different knots. Evie walked in, saying something over her shoulder. A moment later, Glory came into his sights. Finally!

  Breath congealed in his throat. Dear God. She was . . . magnificent. Like the goddess she worshipped. Her long red curls tumbled down her back, and the sheer fabric of her dress swayed over her lush hips and thighs.

  Hunter stepped in behind her and approached the hostess. The group was led to a table directly across from Falon’s. The closer she came, the hotter his blood flowed. See me. Want me.

  It was as Glory was helped into her seat that she spied him.

  Her hazel eyes widened with shock then narrowed with fury. Or arousal. She licked her lips. Spotted Kayla. Gripped the edge of the table so tightly he feared it would snap in half.

  “Wow,” Kayla said. “I don’t have to ask which one is yours.”

  His. He liked the sound of that.

  “She’s the one shooting daggers at us. Or rather, me.”

  “Right.”

  He should take Kayla’s hand, perhaps kiss it. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. The only skin he wanted to kiss was Glory’s.

  Her sisters took their places at her sides, and he heard her bark, “Did you know about this?”

  Both women nodded guiltily.

  “Traitors! Why not ask him and his date to join us, then. I couldn’t possibly feel any more uncomfortable.”

  “Hey, Falon,” Hunter called. “Glory would really love it if you and your date joined us.”

  Glory’s mouth fell open. “I was joking. I didn’t—”

  “We’d love to.” He was on his feet a second later, jerking Kayla to hers.

  Kayla chuckled softly.

  Deep down, he didn’t think Glory would turn the heat of her anger on the other woman. After he’d foolishly turned her away that night, she hadn’t gone after the fairy he’d allowed inside. Only him. Clearly, she was a smart woman and knew where to properly lay the blame.

  A waiter dragged two extra chairs to the table, positioning him and Kayla directly across from Glory. He wanted to be closer but would settle for simply looking at her.

  You have it bad, man. You’ve gone from hating witches to being desperate for one in less than a week.

  Strangely, he didn’t care anymore. Not while he was soaking her in.

  “Since the big guy isn’t going to introduce me,” Kayla said, breaking the silence, “I’ll introduce myself. I’m Kayla Smith.”

  Everyone introduced themselves. Except for Glory. When it was her turn, she motioned the waiter over and ordered a glass of flaming fairy. Falon nearly choked on his sip of water.

  “You know I’m of the Fae. How?” he asked her. Not many people did. He was too big, too much a warrior compared to the usually party-loving race.

  Her eyes widened. “You’re Fae?”

  Okay, so she hadn’t guessed. He didn’t mind that she now knew; he wanted her to know everything about him. “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Hunter asked, incredulous.

  “No one’s business.”

  Awkward silence followed.

  “Well, this is fun,” Evie said, probably to break the tension.

  “A blast,” Kayla agreed. She tossed her hair over one shoulder, revealing sun-kissed skin.

  Glory saw the action and popped her jaw.

  “I’ve always had low self-esteem,” she’d once told him. Oh . . . shit. Bad move, bringing the ex, he realized. He didn’t want Glory to feel bad about herself or think he found Kayla more attractive. “You’re the prettiest woman here, Glory,” he said honestly.

  Her drink arrived, saving her from replying. But her eyes had met his over the candlelight, soft and luminous. Her lashes cast dark shadows over her cheeks. Shadows he wanted to trace with his fingertips.

  Menus were thrust at them. Falon didn’t bother opening his. He didn’t care about the food. He continued to watch Glory, couldn’t stop himself. He was entranced. She opened her menu, though she didn’t read it. She still watched him, too.

  Her cheeks flushed to a rosy pink. She was clearly having trouble drawing in a breath, her chest rising too quickly and too shallowly.

  “Hungry?” he asked her in a low, raspy voice.

  Her gaze dipped to his lips. “A little.”

  “I’m starved.”

  “Why do I get the feeling they’re not talking about food?” Evie muttered.

  “Because they’re not,” Hunter told her, “so hush.”

  The table fell quiet, all eyes glued to Glory and Falon.

  Get your pen, he mentally willed. Write us away from here. But she didn’t. She finally looked away.

  His teeth ground together. He’d just have to push her harder, then. God, I’m pathetic.

  “I decided to take your advice,” he said.

  Fury curtained her features a split second before she blanked her expression. What thoughts tumbled through her mind? “Is that right?” The words were precisely uttered, as though shoved through the crack in a steel wall and ironed out.

  “That’s right.”

  The waiter came to take their order, but Kayla shooed him away. Hunter, Evie, Godiva, and Romeo propped their elbows on the table, unabashed by their staring.

  “Funny that it wasn’t too long ago you protested taking my advice,” Glory said.

  “Isn’t it?”

  “It is. I’d like to say I’m surprised, but I can’t.” She tapped a nail against her glass, and the red liquid swished. “Not if I’m being honest.”

  His lips pursed. Did she truly think so poorly of him? Of course she did, he thought in the next instant. He’d once told her that he hated witches. He’d once told her that he would pay her back for all she’d done to him.

  Worry about that later. When she’s naked and under you. Or over you. Right now, you have to push her. “I’m thinking about showing Kayla my favorite . . . gladiator costume. Does that surprise you?”

  Hunter choked on his water. Romeo nodded encouragingly. Evie, Godiva, and Kayla leaned forward, obviously int
rigued.

  Glory gasped at the reminder of the night she’d written him into a slave’s cell, splattered with blood and fresh from battle.

  “I’m learning things about you I wish you’d kept hidden,” Hunter muttered.

  “Shut it,” Falon told him.

  “Why don’t you show her your jackass costume?” Glory asked through clenched teeth. “Oh, wait. You’re already wearing it.”

  Okay, he’d walked into that one. Had she been talking about anyone else, he would have laughed. He loved her wit. And she must love warriors. Why else would she have written him into such a situation?

  He racked his brain for things he knew about ancient Rome. Not much. Everything he knew, he knew because of Russell Crowe. “For the woman I desire, I would be willing to do anything.” The words were dare, a challenge.

  “A few flicks of my wrist, and I can make you prove those words. Violently.”

  Do it. “Please.” He snorted. “You’ve run out of ink, and we both know it.”

  She leaned forward, curls spilling onto the table. God, she was lovely. “Do you want to die?”

  “Yes. Of pleasure.”

  Her pupils dilated, and her nostrils flared. Just then, she was like a living flame, fury crackling over her skin. I’m close. So close. Just a little more.

  “Maybe you’d like to visit a village of Vikings? Or maybe you’d like to come face-to-face with a Highland chieftain and his sword?”

  “If that turned you—her on, then yes.”

  Glory ran her tongue over her teeth. Every muscle in his body jerked at the sight of that pink tongue. Oh, to have it on him.

  “It would,” Kayla said. “It really would. What do I have to do to get in on this action? I’d prefer a Viking over a chieftain, but will graciously accept whichever you give me.”