Her Purrfect Match_Romance on the Go

by Jessica Marting

  “Seriously? What kind of bank do you use?”

  “I need your help,” he said, then added, “please. Having a human there will make my job a little easier.”

  ****

  Half an hour later, Emric was belted into the passenger seat of her Honda, looking nattier than she thought he would in the jeans and dark-gray sweater she’d picked out at the mall.

  Damn it, he had no business being so attractive. Not when he would walk out of her life once he sorted things out with his ex and the grimoire thing. Plus, the man could kiss. What an incredibly unfair tease that turned out to be back at her condo. She’d tried to punish Jason and it totally backfired in a way she hadn’t anticipated.

  Another thought struck her, sending all her X-rated thoughts out the window.

  What would happen to her, now that she knew about the existence of witches and sorcerers?

  And werewolves, she reminded herself. Werewolves were a thing, too.

  She might as well get it out in the open. Keeping her eyes on the street, she said, “Emric?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What are you planning on doing with me once all this is over?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Was he serious? “Well, I know about your … kind, I guess. Are you going to kill me or wipe my memory or something?”

  He didn’t reply. She stopped at a red light and glanced over at him. He looked shocked. “Emric?”

  “I hadn’t considered any of that,” he said. “I’m not a bad sorcerer, Grace. I’m not going to kill you, and memory-erasing spells aren’t part of my repertoire.”

  “Oh.”

  “I thought I’d ask you out to dinner, though. Or a movie. Maybe both.”

  Surprise kept her motionless. She didn’t notice the light turning green until a car horn sounded behind her, and she drove through the intersection.

  “Really?” she said.

  “Yes. And I usually wouldn’t bring up your ex-boyfriend when I’m trying to hit on you, but he really did a number of you, didn’t he?”

  “He did, and let’s not talk about him.” She turned on to Rider Street, where Emric’s bank was located. “Uh, is that offer still on the table?”

  “Always.”

  She sneaked another glance at him and he sent her a slow, lazy smile that made her stomach flip-flop.

  She could get used to those looks.

  She pulled up in front of the bank. “How are you going to access your safe deposit box without your ID?”

  He unsnapped his seatbelt. “I’m going to borrow yours, if that’s okay. I can cast a spell on it that’ll make your driver’s license appear as mine.”

  “Seriously? Does that work for passports, too?”

  “I’m not stupid enough to try that,” he said.

  Grace wiggled her driver’s license out of her wallet and handed it to him before they got out of the car. He said a few words in a language that Grace didn’t understand before sticking it in his back pocket, and they left the car.

  He whispered a few other words, possibly in that same language, just before they walked into the bank. He stiffened a little beside her once they passed the automatic banking machines. “Maisy’s been here,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Oh, no.”

  “It doesn’t mean she did anything,” he said. “But it means she’s desperate to get her hands on that grimoire.”

  Grace had more questions about that grimoire, but they had to wait. Emric spoke to a bank manager and showed Grace’s driver’s license to him, and she held her breath, half-expecting to be whisked out of the bank by a security guard. But instead, the manager smiled and escorted them to a room lined with small locked doors.

  Another thought seized Grace. How would Emric open his box without a key?

  Before the bank manager left the room, he said, “There’s one more thing I wanted to mention to you, Mr. Maier. I personally left you a voicemail, but I didn’t hear back from you.”

  Emric smiled gamely. “I’m sure I know what this is about. Does it involve Maisy Hamilton?”

  The manager looked visibly relieved at Emric’s reaction. “I didn’t get her name, but there was someone here twice, the last time two weeks ago, insisting she had access to your safety-deposit box. I wanted to assure you that she has never been admitted to this room.”

  “I would assume as such, and I apologize for not returning your calls. Ms. Hamilton has been a thorn in my side recently. She disposed of my phone.”

  The manager looked taken aback to hear that. “I’m terribly sorry, sir. If you’re planning on filing a police report, please know that I’ll be happy to provide a statement about her actions.”

  “I may take you up on that,” Emric said. “Thank you.”

  The manager left the room with instructions for them to take their time. Before Grace could ask how, Emric closed his eyes and cast another spell before lifting the box’s lid. He breathed an audible sigh of relief at the sight of a small old book, sealed in a taped sandwich bag that looked like was ready to crumble into dust. “Oh, thank all the gods,” he said.

  “Do you mind explaining the spell?” Grace asked.

  “Easily. I enchanted the lock when I first rented it,” he said. “It can be opened with the key and the spell, or the spell as cast by me, but not just the key. This is valuable.” He picked it up and hefted its small weight. “And probably dangerous. It’s a family heirloom I’m going to have to destroy.”

  “Really?”

  Emric peeled off the tape and opened the bag, then lifted out the small book. “Unfortunately. It’s just too dangerous to keep if people are going to resort to turning me into a cat to get their hands on it. It’s probably a good thing that I get rid of it, even if my grandmother would kill me to know I did it.” He carefully turned the pages. “I don’t know what Maisy would have done with this, anyway. It’s written in an obscure German dialect no one speaks anymore.”

  “Including you?”

  “I have English and high school Spanish,” Emric said. “And maybe fifty words of German, most of them swear words and insults. So I’m not going to be able to whisper sweet nothings in a sexy language to you.” He paused. “Not that German is a sexy language. My grandmother telling me to pass the salt could make me wet myself if she said it loud enough.”

  “Emric?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Please don’t ever use the words ‘sexy’ and ‘grandmother’ at the same time again.”

  He made a face. “You’re right.” He re-wrapped the grimoire and stuck it in his back jeans pocket. “All right. We’re going to have to burn this for it to be truly destroyed.”

  “Couldn’t you just toss it in a river or something?”

  “I wish it was that easy,” Emric said. “Unfortunately, this thing has enough protection spells on it that it can’t be destroyed unless it’s by me, on property that’s been hallowed by witches.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Can I consecrate your condo? I’ll make dinner as a thank you.”

  “Does this count as a first date?”

  “It could. I can cook.”

  There was that flutter again. “Yes.”

  ****

  They stopped at the grocery store on the way back to Grace’s home, where Emric added swordfish steaks, a bag of mini potatoes, and broccoli to their shopping cart. She trusted him to pick out some wine—Grace had never been much of a sommelier—and was smiling ear-to-ear when they walked out the automatic doors.

  Once they were in the car, she asked, “So what do you have to do to consecrate my apartment?”

  “Oh, it’s pretty simple. I’ll cast a couple of spells and leave a candle burning. Do you have any on hand?”

  “Yeah, some of those long white ones. They don’t need to be special candles?”

  “Nah,” he said. “For this purpose, I just need a new candle. We aren’t doing anything terribly fancy. Then we can roast the grimoire on your balcony.”

  “I have a
charcoal grill,” Grace said. “Would that work?”

  “That would be perfect.”

  She had a good feeling about this date, even if it involved the destruction of dangerous supernatural materials on her property. Plus, there was the cat-shifting issue. Grace parked the car in the lot adjoining her building, and they carried bags of groceries inside and stepped into the elevator.

  She sneaked a glance at Emric. “Do you like cats?”

  “I like them when I’m not turned into one,” he said. “I guess you’re thinking of taking another crack at the adoption thing?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What, I’m not cute enough for you?”

  “You won’t purr when I scratch your ears anymore,” she said. “Plus you ate all my shrimp lo mein.”

  “I can purr,” he said. “And if all you’d eaten for weeks was dried kibble, you would have stepped over your own mother for some shrimp lo mein, too.”

  “Based on that and the swordfish we’re having tonight, I’m guessing you would have preferred the seafood medley cat food.”

  “It all tastes the same,” he said.

  The elevator doors opened on Grace’s floor. But when they reached her door, Emric paused. “What is it?” Grace asked.

  Before he could answer, her door opened and an unfamiliar woman scowled at them. Her dark-blonde hair was pulled back in a perfect messy bun that Grace had never been able to achieve, her makeup flawless. She ignored Grace and focused on Emric. “There you are,” she said.

  “Shit!” Emric dropped the grocery bag he’d been holding.

  The woman snarled something in a language Grace didn’t recognize, and she realized this must be Maisy. Before she could knock the bitch over for breaking into her condo, Emric said something over Maisy’s spell, and the woman froze on the spot.

  “Gods damn it,” Emric said. “That’ll hold her for five minutes, tops. Grace, I’m so sorry I brought this on you.”

  “She broke in!” Grace said, and she looked behind the intruder at her home. Her heart sank. She could already see things tossed about the living room: framed artwork tilted on its side, couch cushions on the floor, knickknacks upended. “I guess that’s Maisy?”

  “Yeah.” Emric picked up the frozen Maisy and placed her bodily outside the condo before closing and locking the door. He chanted something else, and Grace could feel electricity sizzle through the air. “I warded your door. It’ll hold her off for a couple of days after the holding spell wears off, but she’ll come back for me at some point. Fuck!” The word echoed off the foyer’s walls. “Grace, I’m so sorry about all of this.”

  “What do we do now?” she asked. “She’s going to come back.”

  “She will,” Emric said. “That’s why we have to leave. She wants that grimoire for something nefarious, and she cannot have it.” He sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. “Pack a bag, and we’ll go to my house.”

  “Won’t she track you down there?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “But I have more weapons at my disposal at home. I don’t think you want your condo to end up burned down.”

  Heart in her throat, Grace quickly packed an overnight bag. She and Emric slipped out of her condo, past the still-motionless Maisy, and went back to the elevator.

  Chapter Four

  Guilt swamped Emric during the entire ride back to his house, mixed with trepidation for what he might find when they arrived. Grace had been quiet, gripping the steering wheel with more force than necessary and nodding in response to his directions. He didn’t know if she was frightened, pissed off, or both, and he wasn’t sure how to broach that particular subject.

  Of course it was just his luck that he’d finally meet a nice woman, one who didn’t freak out when she found out magic was real, and have everything proverbially come crashing down on his head due to said magic thanks to a psycho ex.

  “I’m sorry about everything,” he said, not for the first time. She’d merely made a “mmm” sound every time he’d done so in the half hour since they got in the car and sped away from her building.

  Emric’s house was well past the town limits, surrounded by trees on six acres of land. He usually kept it warded so it was more difficult to notice to ensure his privacy, so he was careful to give very precise directions to Grace. He’d offered to drive, but she only tersely asked if he had his license and insurance information on him should they get pulled over.

  And Emric didn’t. They both knew that.

  She didn’t speak until they cleared the long drive leading to his modest two-story house and shut off the ignition. “What are the odds that Maisy will torch my building, Emric? It’s not like I can call the police over this.”

  “I don’t think she’d do that.” Gods, I hope she wouldn’t do that. “She knows by now that the grimoire is with me, so there isn’t any point in destroying your condo.”

  “More so.”

  He cringed. “More so.”

  “How would she know the grimoire is with you? Does it have a tracking device or something?”

  “She’s probably been casting sensing spells to find me once the curse was broken.”

  “And you didn’t think to tell me about that?” Grace’s eyes blazed. “You know, Emric, you needed help, and I was happy to provide it. I really would’ve appreciated more of a heads up about all of these possibilities.”

  “I know, and I’m grateful for everything you’ve done—and you’ve done a lot, Grace—and I really am sorry about all of this.” Impulsively, he reached for one of her hands, still locked around the steering wheel. She didn’t pull away, and instead turned to face him. He took that as a positive sign. “I promise,” he said, “that this ends immediately. We’ll go inside, I’ll get in touch with the Michigan coven, destroy the grimoire, and it’ll be over.”

  She bit her lip, something else to add to the list of cute things about her. “Then we’ll have dinner?”

  He relaxed a little. “Of course.”

  She pinched the bridge of her nose with her free hand. “Okay,” she said. “But I’ll hold you to that grimoire-destroying thing. And no more hassling from Maisy.”

  “I can’t promise that, but I’m in a much better position here to defend us,” he said. “I really hope she hasn’t destroyed my wands, though.” He prided himself on that collection.

  “Like Harry Potter?”

  He should’ve thought that out a little better. “Uh, I guess.”

  “All right,” she said, and unsnapped her seatbelt. “I’m interested in seeing your … wand collection.”

  Was that a double entendre? He couldn’t tell from the tone of her voice.

  She gave him a sly smile, the first he’d received since they found out Maisy broke into her condo.

  Yes, it was definitely a double entendre.

  ****

  “How can you be so sure Maisy won’t just barge in here now?” Grace asked.

  She’d watched as Emric surveyed the damage done to his home. It was nothing permanent, he assured her, and he chanted a few spells with an old, gnarled piece of carved wood that he declared was his favorite wand to protect his property. Even Grace could feel the sizzle of his magic flow through the air when he did that, and she had to admit it was kind of hot.

  More than that.

  She helped Emric put his living room to rights while he called some of the coven witches, cursing when he kept getting their voicemails. “Maybe Maisy put a spell on your phone,” Grace said, and then immediately felt like an idiot. She had no idea if that was possible.

  Then again, she hadn’t known that magic existed until the wee hours of the morning. Anything was possible.

  “No, it’s nearly dinnertime,” Emric said. “They’re probably picking up their kids from gymnastics practice or something. They’ll get back to me, and I can hold down the fort well enough on my own if Maisy decides to make another appearance. Want the grand tour of the rest of the house?”

  Grace followed him through the h
ome, one that had been in his family for years. “Where are your parents?” she asked, hoping for a non-depressing answer.

  “They retired to Florida three years ago,” he said. “That reminds me that I should call them and let them know I’m alive.”

  “Any missed calls from them?”

  “No,” he said. “But just in case, I should let them know what’s up. What about your parents?”

  “Retired, too. They live in Ann Arbor. Mom was a schoolteacher, Dad had his own landscaping business. Any siblings?”

  They descended stairs to the finished basement, where Grace could see the walls were soundproofed. Audio equipment lined the walls, along with an electric piano, a pair of guitars, and a bass. “Oh, thank every god there is,” Emric said. “She didn’t touch the studio. And to answer your question, my older sister lives in Indianapolis with her family.”

  “She’s a witch, I take it?”

  “Everyone in the family is.” He held out his arms. “This, Grace, is the in-home recording studio that keeps the IRS from bothering me too much. I actually do take on the occasional client, but just enough to keep the lights on. I’d offer to play something for you, but…”

  Grace nodded, understanding. “We don’t know when Maisy will show up.”

  “Yeah. I really hate that she’s putting a damper on our first date.”

  The second floor had been trashed as well, but Emric assured Grace that none of the damage was serious. “I think she was just trying to make a point,” he said, opening the door to his home office.

  “Her point being that she’s nuts?”

  “Exactly. She figured out pretty early on that I didn’t keep the grimoire on site. Over there, behind the desk, is where she turned me into a cat.” He pointed at the spot. “I can’t believe she was foolish enough to use that spell. We believe in the rule of three, after all.”

  “So did my college roommate. She was Wiccan, though.”

  He nodded. “It isn’t a bad philosophy to live by.” He checked the phone on the desk for messages. “Damn it, she unplugged my landline. I really hope one of the coven witches gets back to me.”