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Seven Year Witch

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by Elisa Adams




  Seven Year Witch

  Elisa Adams

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright ©2007 Elisa Adams

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  ISBN: 978-1-59596-639-1

  Formats Available:

  HTML, Adobe PDF,

  MobiPocket, Microsoft Reader

  Publisher:

  Changeling Press LLC

  PO Box 1046

  Martinsburg, WV 25402-1046

  www.ChangelingPress.com

  Editor: Connie Alberts

  Cover Artist: Karen Fox

  This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  Seven Year Witch

  Elisa Adams

  Ava Reskin is a highly trained supernatural assassin. A lean, mean killing machine who’s always looking for the next job. Until a mix-up at The Organization sends her to the last place she wants to be -- the Fairy Godmother division.

  Now she has to survive the Fairy Makeover Squad, a satin ballgown, and -- gasp -- heels. The only perk to the job is her new assignment. The very sexy Craig Harper, who seems more interested in what’s under her dress than what wishes she can grant for him. There’s only one snag she can’t seem to overcome -- the secret fantasies she’s always had about Vic, her former boss. The choice is impossible… until she realizes she doesn’t have to choose. She can have them both. In fact, they really would prefer it that way.

  Chapter 1

  They didn’t really expect her to kill this guy, did they?

  Ava Reskin glanced from the surveillance photos spread across the metal tabletop to her boss, seated across from her. This had to be some kind of a joke. “Is he my next assignment?”

  Vic nodded, though the same troubled look she’d noticed on his face when she’d first stepped into his office didn’t seem to want to budge. The guy looked like he wanted to say something to her, but was afraid to. That made no sense, given Vic Tyson wasn’t afraid of anything. Ever. She’d seen him take down nasty demons without even breaking a sweat. She’d also seen him stand up to the bosses at The Organization -- the company they both worked for that dealt in all things paranormal and magical on earth -- and that was no easy task. Ava would take demons over the big bosses any day. Some of those guys were pretty scary shit, and given that she was an immortal capable of conjuring just about anything she wanted with a wave of her hand, that was saying a lot.

  Vic scared her a little, too, but for different reasons. He made her palms sweat. Made her stomach clench whenever she got too close and caught a whiff of that sexy cologne. He starred in most of her late-night fantasies, too, though she’d never admit that to him. Vic wasn’t a demon, but he was something that made her equally nervous. A cat… rather, a shapeshifter with the ability to change into a leopard. Cats of all varieties had always made Ava a little nervous, and that was why the pull she felt toward Vic had shocked her at first.

  Vic’s demeanor was one of the things that had first attracted her to him, but since working for him for so long, she’d found many more. To her utter frustration, she couldn’t do anything about the attraction, though. The Organization had a strict rule against intradepartmental fraternizing. They were strict about enforcing the rules, too. The last hunter who’d dared date a secretary in his department now lived in a cage in the boss’s office and spent his days running -- on all four legs -- on a hamster wheel.

  Not that Vic would ever be interested in someone like Ava. The man was incredible with his wavy chocolate brown hair and eyes the color of black coffee. And that ass… she’d found herself staring at it way too many times, especially in recent months, since her last relationship had ended and sex had once again become a solo event.

  Vic preferred beauty queens to immortal hunters. Ava knew she wasn’t ugly, but without mile-long legs and double-D tits, no way would Vic look at her as anything but an employee.

  “Uh, Ava?” he asked, his tone hesitant. “You want to come back into the conversation or would you rather daydream all day?”

  She wrinkled her nose. Right. The job. He’d called her into his office the second she’d walked through the front door of the building, so this guy -- this perfect blond god of a man -- must be someone important. Someone they needed taken out right away. But she couldn’t do it. She knew this guy. She’d seen him around town a time or two. He didn’t look like someone who posed a major danger to mortal society.

  Then again, Lucifer was a fallen angel and probably the best looking guy she’d ever had the pleasure of drooling over. He wasn’t exactly next in line for sainthood or anything.

  “This guy? No friggin’ way. I have to assassinate him?” He was too gorgeous. Too perfect. Ava didn’t think she could harm a hair on his head. Her specialty was minor demons. The clawing, snarling kind that ate cats and small dogs for breakfast and occasionally breathed fire. “This guy looks way too… human for me to feel comfortable with.”

  “He isn’t human. He just looks like it. He’s like me. Believe me, he’s a lot tougher than he looks. But there’s an issue here. I don’t think you understand what’s going on.” Victor’s expression went from sober to downright miserable. He let out a breath and raked a hand through his hair before he spoke. “Killing him isn’t what you’ll be doing at all. You’re aware of the Seven Year Witch paperwork you needed to submit?”

  “Um, yes.” Ava gulped. What had she done wrong now? Whatever it was, it could be fixed. Vic always managed to fix her screw-ups before they became huge problems. Not that there were many screw-ups she could take the blame for. At least not lately. “What about it?”

  Vic let out a long, noisy breath. “There was a mix-up in the paperwork, and since you filed a day before the deadline, there was nothing I could do to fix it before it was logged. I’m afraid you won’t be working for the damage control unit anymore. Actually, you’re no longer an assassin at all, so I’ll need you to turn in your Organization-issued weapons before you leave today. You’ve been transferred.”

  She blinked at her boss, sure she must have heard him wrong. Transferred? Was this someone’s idea of a sick joke? She’d been with damage control since she started working for The Organization. Transfers didn’t happen often, and when they did, a big blunder on the part of the employee usually warranted the switch.

  A big blunder, like checking the wrong box on your Witch License Renewal paperwork? Yeah, that would probably do it. Still, didn’t a woman get one mistake on the paperwork before they went all postal on her? “Excuse me? Transferred? To where? Dangerous crimes? Interspecies smuggling?”

  Both of those options held a lot of appeal for a woman who’d learned quickly how much she enjoyed the power of carrying a gun.

  Vic dropped his gaze to the table, his expression as amused now as it was pained. Shit. This couldn’t be good.

  He cleared his throat before he spoke again. “Actually, you’ve been transferred to the Fairy Godmother division.”

  Ava wouldn’t have been surprised if her jaw hit the floor. She made a mental note to call the doctor first thing in the morning and make an appointment to get her hearing checked, because there was no way in hell he could have said what she thought she heard. “Excuse me? The what?”

  Instead of repeating himself, he stood and paced the
floor. It was a full, nail-biting, stomach-churning minute before he stopped walking, faced her, and spoke in a low tone usually reserved for the times when a job had gone wrong and a hunter ended up injured. “You know how much I respect you. How much I want you working for me.”

  Mutely, Ava nodded, too stunned to speak. So he was telling the truth. She’d be working in the… gulp… Fairy Godmother department from now on. At least for the next seven years, when she could file the SYW paperwork again and, with any luck, be transferred back to a department where she’d see some action.

  “And you know I’d do anything to help you out of this mess… if I could,” Vic continued, his expression grave but that stupid amusement still dancing behind the frustration in his eyes.

  She narrowed her own eyes. Her palm itched to smack the jerk. He thought this was funny, huh? He wouldn’t laugh if it was happening to him.

  Her fingers twitched, eager to put a minor spell on him. Maybe a huge nose, or a tail. Or even a third nipple. She smiled at the thought. His pretty little blonde women wouldn’t want him as much if he was a freak, would they?

  “I can see what you’re thinking, Ava,” Vic warned. “Don’t even try it. If you use your magic on me, I’ll have to fire you, and believe me, I really don’t want to do that.”

  She sat back in the chair and sighed. “Ruin all my fun on one day, why don’t you?”

  With another shake of his head, Vic walked over to her and sat on the edge of the table. He lifted her chin in his palm, sending a riot of warm ripples across her nerves. He seemed just as surprised at the sudden electricity between them as she was. He blinked a few times, his lips parting, and he sucked in a breath. Wow. Talk about an intense reaction. She hadn’t realized until this moment that she might not be the only one interested.

  Ava managed to bite back a moan -- barely -- but it was a few seconds before she realized he’d spoken to her. He always had this effect on her. Given that she didn’t want to become some big boss’s pet, being transferred might not be the worst thing in the world, after all.

  “What did you say?” she asked him. “I didn’t hear you.”

  “I said I think this is for the best.” His thumb stroked her jaw line and she jerked away from the contact. Not that she didn’t like it. She did. Way too much. This was the first time he’d shown her any interest.

  Still, she couldn’t let it happen. She might not work for him anymore, but it was a gray area she didn’t want to take chances with. “Why do you think that?”

  He let out a bitter laugh. “All these years, I’ve had trouble keeping my hands off you.”

  Yeah, uh-huh. And she’d be the next president. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better. You know what? I’m not really in the mood for jokes, so you can quit it right now, okay?”

  “It’s not a joke.”

  She sighed, not wanting to get into this now. Vic could be manipulative when he wanted to be, and she couldn’t tell if he was really attracted to her or if he was just trying to soften the blow he’d just delivered. Instead of getting her hopes up, she turned the conversation back to where it belonged while they were in the office. On business.

  “Listen. I just want to get on with my new assignment. We can finish this discussion later, after you’ve had a chance to sober up from whatever drug you’ve decided to start popping.” The Fairy Godmother department couldn’t be any worse than this, could it? “I think I might even be a little excited about this new assignment.”

  Chapter 2

  Craig stalked into the house, slamming the door behind him. Of all the shitty days he’d had in his lifetime, this one took the cake. Right up until an hour ago, he’d been poised to make a shitload of money… but the deal had fallen apart at the last second. The third deal to go bad in the past month. He was starting to get a complex.

  “It figures,” he muttered to himself, stomping into the dining room and the wet bar tucked into the corner. He grabbed a tumbler, filled it to the brim with his favorite Russian vodka, and slugged back half the glass in one sip. It made his eyes water, but damn, he needed it. Needed something to dull the anger and the frustration. He’d been in the business for long enough to make some serious dough, and to get good at what he was doing. Acquiring failing companies and rebuilding them from the ground up was a challenge, and lately his life had been sorely lacking challenges. Except as far as work went. Work was a different story… and he was starting to think it was time to get out of the business and find something else to occupy his time.

  “Of all the deals to go wrong, it had to be a multi-million-dollar one,” he grumbled, raking his free hand through his hair. His life as of late had been one stress after another. He needed to find some way to relax. If everything went as planned, he’d have that relaxation soon -- but with the downward spiral his life had been in lately, Vic’s plan would probably fall through, too.

  “I could be wrong, but it doesn’t look to me like you need the money.”

  Craig spun around, sure he must have been hearing things. The glass fell from his hand. It shattered on the white tile floor, spraying bits of glass and liquid in every direction. He let out a curse. Was he losing his mind?

  Why the hell was there a woman sitting at his dining room table?

  Something about her looked familiar, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. He would have remembered seeing this particular woman before -- and not because she was stunning. She was beautiful, but that wasn’t what screamed for attention. The high, oddly curly hair style, the pounds of makeup, and the hot pink satin dress she wore did all the screaming.

  He leaned back against the marble top of the bar, closed his eyes, and sucked in a gulp of air. Stress. It was stress making him hallucinate. No way could there be a strange woman in his house, especially not one who looked like she’d just escaped from the circus. He’d set the alarm when he’d left for work this morning. It had still been set when he’d gotten home a few minutes ago. She’s not really here.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, her bright pink lips tipping into a frown. “You look a little pale.”

  Ah, shit. Either his imagination was more vivid than he’d thought, or somehow, someone had managed to get past his alarm. It was Stan. It had to be. A joke like this was right up his alley.

  Craig opened his eyes, half expecting to see her gone, and jumped back when he found her standing right in front of him. “Who are you?”

  “Ava.”

  As if that was supposed to mean anything to him. “What are you doing here? Stan sent you, right?”

  It made perfect sense. Stan knew Craig’s type of woman, and had hit it dead-on this time. Slim-yet-curvy body. Dark hair. Light blue eyes and full lips that made his mouth water. Except, what was with the getup?

  “Who’s Stan?” she asked, a bit of amusement dancing in her eyes.

  Yeah, his business partner had definitely sent her. An early birthday present, maybe. Whatever the reason, Craig wasn’t a man to turn a fabulous gift down. Now if he could just get her to take a shower and get rid of that makeup and awful hair style. “He must have paid a fortune for you.”

  The woman’s -- Ava’s -- eyes darkened. “Excuse me?”

  “Is Ava really your name, or did you make it up? Do you only use it when you’re working?”

  Her eyebrows shot up and all humor left her expression. She plunked her hands on her hips. “Of course it’s my real name. Why would I make it up?”

  He shrugged. Figured Stan would find him a woman with an attitude problem. “A lot of women in your profession choose to keep their real name hidden.”

  “And what profession would that be?”

  Uh-oh. If looks could kill… Maybe she wasn’t who he thought she was. “Stan didn’t send you, did he?”

  She shook her head, the look in her eyes turning murderous. He would have laughed, had he known who the woman was, but given his recent business ventures, he had trouble finding the humor in the situation. If Stan hadn’t sent her
, someone else had. Someone who didn’t have Craig’s best interests at heart. Someone who was a little pissed off about being out of a job when he’d restructured the company they’d worked for.

  He grabbed her arms, spun her around, and pressed her against the wall, trying to ignore the way his body responded to being so close to her. Odds were she was a dangerous woman, and he couldn’t afford to take any risks, no matter how sexy she was.

  “Why the hell are you here?” he asked, his tone harsh.

  Instead of cowering like he would have expected from the high-priced call girl he’d first thought she was, this one glared right back at him. “You’ve got about two seconds to let me go, buddy, or you’re going to regret it.”

  He slid one leg in front of hers, holding them in place so she couldn’t do any damage to important parts of his anatomy. The fact that those same parts were responding to her in ways they shouldn’t be didn’t escape his notice. He was already half-hard, getting harder by the second… for a woman who could very well be here to kill him. “No way in hell am I letting go until you tell me who you are.”

  “Yeah, that’s really not an option.”

  One second he was holding her, and the next, he was sailing across the room. His back hit the wall, and he slid down to the floor with an unceremonious thump.

  “Don’t mess with me, buddy,” Ava said, standing over him. “That’s rule number one. If you can remember that, everything is going to be really easy around here. If you forget, I’m going to make your life a living hell.”

  Ava stared down at Craig Harper, her new assignment, fighting the urge to wrap her fingers around his throat and squeeze -- or worse, turn him into a spider and crush him under her heel. “You think I’m some kind of whore, huh? What gave it away? The fact that I broke into your house without setting off your alarm system?”

  He didn’t say anything in response, and she nearly laughed at the surprised look in his eyes.

 

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