Mikayla lifted Ciar up and rested her brow against his little head. “I know,” she whispered as the dog licked her nose. “Look, guys, we’ve been working all day. I need a break.”
“Sure,” Tamsyn agreed. “Leave Ciar here and we’ll keep working on him.”
The dog whined.
“Nuh-uh,” Mikayla said. “I’m not leaving him unsupervised with you two again. Who knows what you’ll turn him into this time. Come on, Ciar.” She set him on the ground before rising to her feet. The dog trailed after her as she left the room.
Mikayla headed back to her bedroom. She set the small vial of blue potion on her nightstand before collapsing onto the wide bed. Ciar leapt onto the comforter beside her.
“What could I have cursed you with?” she asked him, twisting her head. “I shouldn’t have been able to perform a spell this powerful.”
The dog crept closer, crawling on his belly to her side.
Mikayla reached out to run a hand over his soft fur. “What a mess this is and I know it’s my fault but you’re not exactly blameless, buddy. I don’t know what you found so defective about me, but you know what? It’s your damage. As soon as we reverse this I’m not wasting any more time on you.” She rolled over to stare up at the ceiling. “I really need to find a lover.”
The quiet growl from the dog at her side startled her. Mikayla sat up, watching as the poodle bared his teeth and growled louder.
“Ciar?” she asked, reaching out a hand to him.
Before her fingers could touch his fur, black smoke twisted from the bedspread and surrounded him.
Mikayla watched in horror as the smoke grew in size. She was about to run for the door when a solid figure burst through the blackness.
Ciar sat before her looking as shocked as she felt. He looked exactly as he had at the bar, dressed all in black and wickedly handsome. Slowly, he lifted a hand to his face, running his fingers over his furless skin.
“I’m back,” he whispered.
Mikayla swore. Throwing herself away from the transformed demon, she clawed at the nightstand for the forgetting potion.
“Oh no you don’t,” Ciar snarled, grabbing her arms and pinning them above her head with one strong hand. “You are not taking my memories, witch.”
Mikayla froze beneath his hard body, staring up at him in horror. “Memories? How do you know what the potion does?”
Ciar narrowed his eyes. “Woof, woof.”
He knew, she realized. He’d been conscious the whole time. He knew she’d cast a spell on him and he knew he’d been held here by her sisters. It wasn’t just her he’d exact his vengeance on. They were all in danger.
“Let me go!” she cried, fighting in earnest to free herself.
Ciar growled, throwing a leg over her flailing limbs to stop her writhing. As hard as Mikayla struggled, she was no match for his strength. A fact that couldn’t have pissed her off more. But what she lacked in physical strength she made up for in magic.
“Free of thee I wish to be,” she snapped, weaving a spell to win her freedom. “By the time I count to thr—”
Ciar’s lips silenced her, cutting off the magic she had summoned. Mikayla lay frozen beneath him as his mouth claimed hers. All the times she’d spent fantasizing kissing him paled in comparison to reality. He kissed her like he wanted to dominate her, possess her. Mikayla knew she could fight him off but her body refused to do anything but writhe under his. How long had she dreamed of him touching her just like this? She had no intention of stopping now. Instead she parted her lips under his, tasting him for the first time.
He held her firmly in place as he drew his lips over hers. Mikayla wanted to touch him but she couldn’t break free from the hand that trapped her wrists. Instead she arched under him, pressing their bodies together. Ciar hissed at the contact but didn’t pull away. He kissed her harder, sliding a knee between her legs.
Mikayla knew how foolish she was acting. Any demon who’d been treated the way he had would want revenge. She should be preparing for battle, not enjoying her enemy. But even if he’d released her, she wouldn’t have been able to pull herself away from his arms. She’d always known it would feel like this. With him.
His free hand slid up her body to cup her breast. She gasped against his lips at the forbidden pleasure. All she wanted was to forget the world around them and enjoy his touch while she had the chance.
Why was he doing this now? He’d never wanted her before.
As soon as the thought entered her mind, she froze. He didn’t want her. But he had been a dog long enough to learn just how much she wanted him.
She tore her mouth from his with a cry of pain. This was his vengeance. He was using her emotions against her as a weapon. Anger curled through her. She was due, she knew, but it didn’t make his revenge any easier to take.
“Don’t touch me,” she commanded, turning her face away from his.
Ciar stilled, looking down at her. “You weren’t complaining a second ago.”
Humiliation flooded her. How easy she’d been to fool. The desperate little witch, wanting the one man she could never have.
“This is cruel,” she said, forcing her voice to stay strong. “Even for you.”
The smile slipped from Ciar’s face. Catching her chin with his fingers he forced her face back to him. “Cruel?” he asked. “This from a woman who cursed me?”
Mikayla didn’t flinch from the accusation in his gaze. “It was a mistake.”
“And the plot to take my memories? What was that, then?”
She understood his rage. If their positions were reversed she’d have done everything she could to remove his head from his shoulders. What could she possibly say in her defense?
“I’m sorry.” The words escaped her before she could call back the flimsy sentiment. Her apologies wouldn’t matter to him in the least.
His fingers tightened on her chin. “Not good enough,” he told her. “Not nearly.”
Mikayla looked up at his determined face and saw no mercy in his eyes. She knew how demons dealt with their enemies. She’d heard stories of their legendary viciousness, everyone had. But would Ciar truly turn the cruelty in his nature against her?
“It’s my fault,” she told him. “Don’t you dare harm my sisters.”
A nameless emotion flickered in his cold silver eyes. His fingers brushed over her skin as he leaned closer to her. “What do you expect me to do?”
She said nothing.
“Come, Mikayla. What do you think I’m capable of?”
“Anything,” she answered, refusing to cower before him.
He tilted his head to the side, studying her wide eyes. “Even hurting you?”
The urge to drop her gaze and hide was nearly overwhelming. But if there was ever a time to be strong it was now. “I bespelled you.”
“I remember.”
“And I’ve heard stories of your kind…”
He narrowed his eyes. “I told you before, you know nothing of me,” he said. “This is further proof.”
Ciar rolled off her before she could reply. He leapt from the bed before pacing to the window.
For a moment Mikayla froze, uncertain whether to go to him or call up her magic. His back was to her, as if he didn’t consider her a threat despite all the evidence to the contrary. She could take his memories so easily. Instead she slipped from the bed and padded over to him on quiet feet.
“Witches,” he murmured when she drew near. “Such trouble.”
She swallowed hard. “Yeah.”
He glanced at her over his shoulder. “You use your magic as a weapon.”
“Not always,” she said. “I’m not that kind of witch.”
“Could have fooled me.”
The barb struck home and Mikayla flinched. “What I did…” She paused, unsure of her words.
Ciar waited, saying nothing to absolve her guilt.
“What I did to you doesn’t get forgiven,” she said, staring at his back. “Do you
think I don’t understand that? I never use my magic to hurt. And then I went and did this. To you of all people.” Hot shame spiraled through her. “I have no excuse. Tell me how I can ever make amends and I will do it gladly.”
She expected more bitter words. Part of her wanted him to yell and rail at her the way she deserved. Instead a feather-light touch trailed down her cheek. She wanted to look away but the gentle pressure of his fingers left her no choice but to look up at him.
She met his unreadable gaze. Guilt ate at her. She could handle his anger easier than his pity.
“Amends,” he murmured. “Perhaps you are not the only one with recompense to make.”
It would be so easy to accept his absolution but Mikayla knew it was wrong. This was her fault. She’d cast the spell. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” she whispered. “You just told me the truth. I should have left you alone. I shouldn’t have forced my company on you.”
A small smile twisted his lips. “Such a torture, your company.”
She flinched.
“Shh,” he whispered. “Always misunderstanding me.”
“Then make your meanings clear.”
He stepped closer and lowered his head until his mouth was a breath from hers. “Understand now?”
“Getting there.” She tilted her head up to brush her lips over his.
His tongue traced the seam of her lips, demanding entrance. Mikayla opened her mouth eagerly. An arm wrapped around her waist as Ciar hauled her up against his chest. He swept his tongue into her mouth, teasing her with his expert touch. Mikayla clung to his shoulders as she fought the overwhelming desire. Nothing existed except the feel of his body against hers. He invaded all her senses.
Her back hit the wall as he crowded her back. Ciar pressed a leg between hers, rubbing against her sensitive flesh. She felt his hard cock straining to be free and smiled against his mouth. It hadn’t been in her head. He did want her, at least her body.
She wasn’t a woman to pine for more than she could have. At least not much. If this was all he could give her, she’d enjoy it and smile at the memories long after he’d left her.
Impatient hands tugged at her shirt. Mikayla hissed a sharp breath when his palms pressed against the naked skin of her abdomen. Skin to skin. Finally. Her fingers curled in the material of his t-shirt, she wished she could touch him as he touched her.
A lone fingertip teased along the edge of her jeans. She shivered at the touch. Yes, she wanted to plead. More.
Ciar ran his hot mouth down her throat and she threw back her head to give him better access. Her body vibrated with need. Never had she experienced such desperation. She wanted this man. Now.
She’d always known it would be this way. If only he’d believed her sooner. Damn demon. Far too stubborn for his own good.
“Mikayla,” he breathed, his voice rough. “I need you.”
Sweeter words had never been spoken.
She grinned, about to reply, when the door burst open. Mikayla whipped around, pushing past Ciar even as her body protested the interrupted embrace.
“Mikayla, Tamsyn found another spell she wants to try,” Wyn called, striding into the room.
Mikayla opened her mouth to reply when she heard a small “poof” behind her.
“What are you doing?” Wyn asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Wyn, look. Ciar is—” The words died on her tongue when Mikayla glanced behind her.
A small, enraged puff ball sat at her feet. The poodle was back.
Chapter Four
The three sisters sat back at the kitchen table, staring at the small, growling dog.
“Are you sure he changed back?” Tamsyn asked.
“Not really something I’d mistake,” Mikayla snapped. “One second he was a dog, then poof, he was Ciar.” She sighed, dragging a hand through her hair. “Then he was a dog again.”
“When Wyn came in,” Tamsyn mused, tapping her finger against her lips. “Well, first thing’s first.” She scooped up the angry dog and walked out of the kitchen. When she returned her arms were empty.
“Do I want to know what you just did with little sis’s boy toy?” Wyn asked.
Tamsyn waved her hand, obviously unconcerned. “I locked him in the pantry. Figured we didn’t need Ciar eavesdropping.”
“Do you know what’s going on?” Mikayla demanded.
“What were you doing before he turned back to normal?” her sister asked.
Mikayla frowned as she thought back. “I’d just finished saying I was going to get a lover and he started growling. Then poof, demon Ciar.”
A grin curved Tamsyn’s lips. “I see. He got angry at the thought of losing you.”
Mikayla snorted in derision.
“Think about it, honey. When you cast the spell, you wanted Ciar to notice you. You wanted him to see you differently. What if that’s the trigger? When he starts to truly see you as someone he’s attracted to, the spell weakens and he changes back to normal.”
“Since he wasn’t attracted to me, he reversed when I came into the room,” Wyn said. “I think I should be insulted.”
“That’s my best theory,” Tamsyn said, ignoring Wyn. “I think the change would have been temporary anyway—based on the strength of his feelings—but yes, your appearance shortened his time as a demon.”
Mikayla shook her head. “Nice try, but I don’t buy it,” she said, a blush heating her cheeks. “I practically did a striptease for him last night and he didn’t change back. If he was attracted to me, don’t you think something would have been triggered?”
“Last night was Halloween.” Tamsyn dismissed the protest with a wave of her hand. “With all magic going haywire, there easily could have been something in the air to counteract your spell. Today is the first day we’re seeing the true effects of your incantation.”
Wyn nodded. “Makes sense.” She glanced back at Tamsyn. “Are you thinking what I am?”
Tamsyn inclined her head, looking none too happy.
“Hell,” Wyn sighed, leaning back in her chair. “She cast a Beauty-and-the-Beast spell.”
“I couldn’t have,” Mikayla argued. “They require time and training. Not a two-sentence spell mumbled in the spur of the moment.”
“Be that as it may, you did cast the spell on Halloween,” Tamsyn said, her voice gentling. “It changes all the rules. You changed his appearance into an unnatural form and made the condition of his release…”
“No,” Mikayla whispered.
Wyn placed a hand on her shoulder, finishing Tamsyn’s explanation. “Love. He has to fall for someone before he can regain his true form.”
“It would explain why none of our reversal spells have worked,” Tamsyn added. “Nothing can break a Beauty-and-the-Beast spell.”
“Nothing except Ciar falling in love. And he’s made it very clear that I am not a suitable contestant for that game,” Mikayla said.
Tamsyn and Wyn glanced at each other. Neither sister had any words of comfort to offer.
Mikayla closed her eyes. As much as she wished this could all be resolved with a happy ending, she knew the truth. Ciar hadn’t wanted her before. Even if he was starting to see her appeal, even if it led to fantastic sex, it wouldn’t be enough to break the spell. If this was a Beauty-and-the-Beast spell it meant he had to fall completely and utterly in love with someone. And it wouldn’t be the witch who had trapped him in such an unforgivable way.
“We have to find a woman he can love,” she said.
“Mikayla,” Tamsyn breathed.
Mikayla looked at her sister, forcing a smile to her lips. “Will you and Wyn go to the Black Cat tonight? See if you can find any info on Ciar’s previous relationships. Maybe there’s a woman in his past we can use.”
Wyn tapped her fingers on the table. “I’m all for getting this man out of your life, don’t get me wrong, but are you sure you want to do this?”
“This has nothing to do with me.” Mikayla gritted her teeth and forced the words
out. “This is about righting an unforgivable wrong.”
“Maybe he could love you,” Tamsyn offered, ignoring Wyn’s derisive snort. Mikayla shook her head even as her heart leapt at the thought. “He already has a hang-up about witches and now I’ve gone and done this to him. Demons don’t forgive. You know that.”
Without another word she left the room.
* * * * *
It had been hours since the sisters had left and he was still a damn dog. Mikayla sat close by, crossed-legged on the bedspread. She appeared to be attempting to have a staring contest with him. His tail wagged in annoyance, the movement still startling. He might have lived centuries but having a tail was new even for him.
“No one else is around,” Mikayla said, interrupting his thoughts. “You can change back now.”
He growled. If he could change back, didn’t the maddening witch think he would have? After all, he was more than willing to pick up where they’d left off. He wanted to find out if her naked body looked as good as it felt.
A tremor ran through him, like he’d touched a live wire. If he’d been in his natural form he would have frowned. What the hell was that?
Mikayla was oblivious to whatever strange powers were at work. She chewed on her lower lip and his gaze followed the movement. How he’d like to use his tongue to ease the abused flesh. Another tremor hit him.
Mikayla plucked at her t-shirt as if she was nervous about something. He cocked his head to the side. What was the witch up to?
“Ciar?” she asked, reaching out to stroke his fur.
He closed his eyes at the contact. It was becoming a habit for her, one he had no wish to break.
“I have something I want to try.”
He hadn’t imagined it. There was uncertainty in her eyes. The sight would have made him smile if he’d had his own body. Mikayla was such a contradiction. Tough as nails and ready to battle anyone who crossed her one minute, shy and unsure the next.
His pleasure vanished, shame replacing it. Her hesitation with him was more trained than instinctive. He’d taught her to expect only a rebuff when she approached him.
She rose to her knees, gripping the hem of her shirt.
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