Hex Goddess (All My Exes Die from Hexes Book 3)

by Killian McRae

  “You are Irish.”

  The accent was local flavor wrapped in velvet.

  “Welsh, actually.” Anwen took a mouthful from her mug. “But I get that a lot. I blame the flame-red hair. Makes me stand out too much.”

  “Oh, indeed you do stand out, but not because of your hair. Because you are so beautiful.”

  Anwen blushed despite herself and turned. The man whose gaze she met surely couldn’t have been talking to her. He was... yum. Stunning, rapturous, earth-shaking. A tall man with crystal-blue eyes, and a scattering of scrub over his chin that she couldn’t decide whether to lick, or use to file her nails. His half smile robbed her ale of any chance to get her drunk.

  “I’ve made you uncomfortable,” he surmised, probably noticing how her cheeks blended into her hair.

  “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. I’m just not used to getting compliments.”

  “Most men are not bold enough to approach someone of your splendor, or you’d hear it more often.” He took her hand and pressed it to his lips. The gesture made her arch her back and scoot to the edge of her stool for unknown reasons. “I’m Alexi.”

  Something told her internally that she shouldn’t tell him her name. What if the cramp she felt was because a demon was near? He could be concealed somewhere in the bar right now, listening for chatter.

  “Deirdre,” she lied, remembering the old folktale.

  “Of the sorrows?” She didn’t miss the way his fingers massaged the back of her hand. He sat down, but still held her fingers in his. “I know this story. Please tell me you are not fated to live in a loveless, unsatisfying marriage with a man twice your age. I would be happy to save you from that fate, if it is so.” His smile widened. “For a night, or longer, if you prefer.”

  “My! Are all Serbian men as forward as you?’

  The pint paused midway in the air as his hand encircled her wrist. “When wooing a witch? Yes.”

  “What?”

  For the first time, Alexi’s confidence cracked. “You are a witch, are you not?”

  “Yes. No. Why? What are you?”

  “Incredibly good in bed.”

  Logic and reality ceased to be on further speaking terms. Her common sense told her a man, even a terrifically sexy, good-looking man like him didn’t come on to a woman in a bar unless he had an agenda. On the other hand, whatever he was doing to her wrist with his mouth and tongue was a great sales pitch for why she should seriously consider his offer.

  “Are you a wiccan?” she asked.

  Feeling a sharp pinch on her wrist as he nipped it, she swore he would have her on the bar stool inside of two minutes if they didn’t slow down. “Something like that. Come outside with me, kinda-witch. I can teach you magical things.”

  The sudden lightheadedness over the Welshie didn’t make sense, but as Alexi’s tongue flicked the interior of her wrist, little else did. It didn’t matter that she’d held out this long; even she knew she couldn’t hold out forever. And why not sleep with a random guy she just met in a pub? No complicated emotions, no stupid, lingering attachments. Just sex, and sex really couldn’t be that big of a deal. Time to just get it over with, and who else was available?

  In her mind’s eye, the image of a certain demigod in his underwear danced around, but he made it clear that his only attraction to her was a biological instinct, and one he had no intention of pursuing. Entranced, Anwen scooted off the bar stool as Alexi led her away from the pub and back into the lobby. When Alexi opened the exit door and the cold air hit her, she heard the echo of Dee’s warning.

  Her beau paused. “What?”

  “Outside.” She pulled her hand back. “It’s, um, a bit nippy.”

  His dimples dared her to resist him when he laughed. Whether it was at her, or because of her, she didn’t know. He stepped out into the night, holding out his hand, and beckoning her.

  “Think the boogieman will get you? I promise, I have many ways of keeping you warm.”

  In the next moment, an unknown fault zone beneath the Serbian soil became active and the ground beneath her feet shook. She didn’t know where Dee came from, or how his face could have been so red without bursting into flames. The demigod occupied and reclaimed the diminishing space between Alexi and her. With one arm, he shielded Anwen while his other hand assessed Alexi’s gray sweater, using the front of it as a grip to raise the handsome hunk at least a meter into the air.

  “Boogieman, no? But you’ll be rotting in your second grave the day I let some incubus scum like you take her.”

  “What’s it to you? The lady clearly wants to be with me.” Alexi sneered with arrogance. He trained his eyes on Anwen, as though he were standing on a stepstool, offering to pull her up, instead of dangling from the grip of a pissed-off Olympian prince. “I have a cottage just over the next hill. Your boyfriend here never showed you what a real man can do for you.”

  “I’m more man than you were even when you were alive.” Dee poised a fist. “The time for diplomacy has passed, asshole. Welcome to the opening round of hostile negotiations.”

  The Serbian’s body flew through the night, its trajectory of force landing him far beyond the glare of the buzzing street lamps. Anwen’s brow creased as her emotions launched into irrational overdrive. Overwhelming loss made her chest tighten, even though she knew, on some level, how out-of-whack Dee’s reaction was since her relationship with Alexi was barely three minutes and half a pint old. She wanted answers. Where did he go? Was he coming back? Why the hell wasn’t Dee letting her go so she could run after him? To hell with this virginity crap, she was ready to settle that long running tab.

  Her right fist pounded the demigod’s bicep. “What the bloody hell did you do that for?”

  “I was protecting you, thank you very much,” Dee snapped back. “Do you know what that guy is?”

  “A wiccan!” she retorted. “Like you, only a hell of a lot nicer.”

  “Like hell.” He extended a finger toward the shadows, curving his other hand around Anwen’s back and leading her to a heap of corduroy and wool in the parking lot. She soon discovered it had hands, feet and a face. Alexi recovered himself with as much grace as a person could after being body-slammed into the hood of an eggplant-colored Renault.

  Dee kicked a shower of dirt and stones at him. “Listen, leech, I was nice enough to pretend I didn’t pick up on your demonic vibe, but you just had to show your sorry, glamored face, didn’t you? One chance for you to get out of this. You got exactly six seconds to proceed to haul ass before I toast you.”

  A hiccup of a laugh preceded Alexi’s words. “Silly, stupid mortal. Go back to your room and play with your own man muscle. Your biceps might be able to knock me around, but only a Pure Soul can...”

  From the corner of her eye, a flash of fire caught Anwen’s attention. A moment later, Dee’s punch sped forward, driving a ball of flame with the outline of his fist straight into Alexi’s gut. “I warned you, fucker. Fornox tierna!”

  One moment, the blonde locks bounced on Alexi’s forehead as he took flight towards them; and the next, he became a cloud of dust falling to the ground. Anwen stared, mouth agape and hands shaking. He evaporated. E-vap-o-rated. Just like the demons in the alley.

  Her hands flew over her mouth. Anwen turned her shameful gaze on the huffing bull that was Dionysius Zitka. “Dee, what was... Oof! You stupid brute! What in the hell are you doing? Put me down!”

  Her world swayed as she surrendered to his manhandling. Dee hoisted Anwen and threw her, facing backward, over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. The few drinkers who caught sight of them from the pub raised their frothy mugs of beer and cheered on Dee’s caveman routine. Any thoughts of keeping him out by locking her door would have proved useless. With the utterance of a few words, the demigod had her door open without the need of a key.

  The world righted itself as he rolled her off his shoulder and onto the bed.

  “Let me see your wrist!” He didn’t wait for her to co
mply, but grabbed her hand and held it under the lamplight.

  “Why?”

  Dee grimaced. “Damn it all! He scored you.”

  “You didn’t give him a chance to score me, dumb yank.”

  Dee huffed. “First, while I have a green card, I’m Greek. One hundred and fifty percent. And two, don’t you realize I just saved your life?” Dee’s finger pointed at the growing crimson pearl forming on her ivory skin. “Which, by the way, is just dumb fucking luck. I’m only a pillar. If he had been a stronger demon, my magic wouldn’t have been strong enough to vanquish him. And FYI, I’m talking about scoring your wrist, as in, scratching it to get to your vein. Or were you too concerned with the wet, dripping sensation in another part of your body to worry about bleeding?”

  She ripped her hand away, and resisted the impulse to slam it across his face. “How dare you!”

  Dee snatched back her hand and held her wrist to the level of her eyes. “He injected toxin into you. Whether you actually wanted to sleep with him or not, you would have done it anyway.”

  “Toxin? Demons have toxin?” This time, she successfully regained control of her limbs. Anwen circled her hand around her wrist, spreading the bead of blood like a bracelet. “Would you please tell me what the hell just happened down there?”

  “You almost fell for one of the oldest seduction traps since mood lighting and faking an arm stretch. Vampires strike in the heat of passion. They say conditioning the blood with sexual satisfaction is like letting wine breathe before drinking. The toxin acts as an aphrodisiac, and just like a damn bat, they have a compound in their saliva that keeps the blood from coagulating. Luckily, I have the power to heal you, but you’re going to have to just work through the other effects of the toxin until it’s purged from your system.”

  “So he only wanted... my blood?” Didn’t that just let all the air out of her balloon?

  She really wished he’d stop looking at her that way. His intense stare made her feel like he either wanted to rip out her throat, or make it raw from screaming.

  “You’re poisoned,” Dee said, his voice leveling out. “I can see it affecting you already.”

  Sure as Shinola, it was. What other explanation could there be for why her mouth began watering after Dee’s alpha male act? God, just the sight of him, huffing and brooding, had her overheating. Anwen worked open the top buttons of her shirt, hoping to let the perspiration beads on her chest evaporate; or offering Dee a chance to remove them with his tongue.

  Dee’s voice broke when he spoke. “Stop that,” he lectured, stilling her hand from opening the glimpse any further. He leapt from the side of her bed and turned circles, pulling at his hair, before stopping and becoming straight and stiff. “I should leave.”

  “Wait! You said you could heal me!”

  His knuckles went white as he gripped the doorknob. Closing his eyes, he worked to keep his tone soft. “I can only heal the wound, and maybe suck out a little of the toxin.”

  Anwen rose, took a step back, then leaned forward, tentatively, daring her own resolve. “But if you suck out the toxin, won’t it poison you too?”

  A low rumble echoed in his chest. “I don’t need any vampire toxin to ramp up my libido. I’m the son of Zeus. It’s my curse.”

  Twenty different scenarios ran through Anwen’s head at once: Dee leaving, Dee staying, Dee kissing her, her kissing Dee, she and Dee falling on the bed and giving in to the fate that seemed apparent... And a clown riding a unicycle while playing a ukulele. Anwen wasn’t sure which she feared, or wanted, the most.

  Well, except for one, of course; honking noses were just plain freaky.

  Again, she offered her wound. Dee looked at it for a moment, contemplating, until finally, his features softened. His fingers wrapped around her bleeding wrist as he pulled it into his mouth and drew down one gulp. Her mind and body competed, shame and intrigue vying for the right to control her. The pull of his lips on her wrist spiked her pulse. Her knees gave way just in time for him to notice and scoop her up. Her eyes looked up into his, and the passion ignited between them, just as it did each time they caught each other’s gazes in the rearview mirror.

  “Why didn’t you just come to me?” She felt his breath on her lips as his head lowered.

  “I told you in the car, I have no intention of sleeping with you.”

  Restraint and desire contorted his features. Dee’s fists clenched as he staggered in place, as though invisible ropes were all that held him back. “What I’m intending involves very little sleep. I have nee...”

  “Don’t!” Her fingers dug into his chest, pushing him back. “I hate that ‘I have needs’ spiel. Every boyfriend I’ve ever had pulled that one on me. ‘Anwen, I want you,’ ‘Anwen, I need you,’ ‘Anwen, I. Have. Needs!’ When is someone going to worry about what I need, what I want? Why can’t someone ever come to me and say, ‘Anwen, what can I do for you?’“

  “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

  She glowered at him. “Was it, ‘Anwen, I have nerf guns? Ninny goats? Newberry Prize books I’d like to read you?”

  “Newberry what?” He shook his head at her silliness. “What I was going to say, is this: I have never been so attracted to someone for a very long time. I can’t explain it. It’s like, you’re a wine I remember from better days, and longed to drink for years. Do I want you? Yes, goddess in grief, I want you. But more than that, I want you to want me. I know you don’t now, I get that, but please give me a chance before you go running off to become some vampire’s nightcap. And stop denying yourself. You’re a nephilim, damn it, and this is what we are. We dine, we revel, we take a small ounce of comfort in this fucked-up world by drinking in each other’s bodies. You were made to be pleased, and all I’m asking is to have the opportunity, no, the honor, of being the one who shows you what it’s like to have a man worship you for the goddess you are.”

  “Jesus in a jumper, Dee! Just kiss me already!”

  He didn’t need to be told twice, nor did he give her the opportunity to try. He occupied her. By the time Dee stopped kissing her, he managed to set her on the bed, crawl on top of her, and run a hand underneath her shirt. Every move he made sent reverberations through her, emanating from the pit of her stomach and ending at the tips of her toes. What that man could do to her with only his fingers... and all above the waist. His mouth worked hers as his knee inched up the inside of her thigh, parting her knees. Gaining leverage, Dee settled between her legs. Even with clothing still separating them, Anwen felt him, and knew he was as ready as she was.

  He pulled back and their eyes met. In that moment she knew. Oh, God. This was it. This was really going to happen. She was finally going to lose her virginity, and with a demigod! She’d surely be ruined for mortal men forever. Somehow, that thought didn’t really disturb her.

  The furthest she ever went with a man sexually was a dry hump at a party in college. That experience resulted in nothing more than a dry cleaning bill. Feeling too embarrassed and eager for the awkward encounter to end, she failed to ask Harker to even the score. Dee barely worked her body for three minutes, and already, she felt the edge of release creeping up on her. Was there a spell that could make their wardrobes malfunction? She longed to feel every inch of his skin against hers.

  Dee shifted as he pushed himself up on his hands, looking down at her.

  “I want to believe this is you, but the toxin...” Confusion and fear filled his eyes.

  Anwen moved her hands down the planes of his chest, tracing the edges where one muscle turned into another. “There’s been no toxin in my blood for the last three days. I’ve wanted you all three of them.”

  “But you said you weren’t going to sleep with me.”

  She blushed. “I didn’t plan to.”

  His forehead fell on hers. “It doesn’t make sense, this illogical pull. I barely know you, but at the same time I feel like I’ve known you forever.”

  Her hands reached up and palmed his ch
eeks. “I believe you said something about worshipping me?”

  “Yes, yes I did.”

  Dragging himself against her, the friction caused by his hardness, and the scratch of the jeans against the thin fabric of her leggings, just about undid her. A moment later, Dee moved one hand over her ribs, latching the other over the dip in her sweater and pulling it down, exposing the pink flesh normally hidden from view. His mouth went to work, suckling her breast as his tongue explored both the peaks and valleys. Her hands threaded through his hair, pulling him down, urging him.

  “How are you doing this to me?”

  His heavily lidded eyes looked up at her, though his body continued its sheathed undulations at her midsection. “What am I doing to you? Tell me.”

  “You’re making me... dizzy...” A rush of heat and fire shot through her as her insides wound up tighter than her nanna’s pocketbook when his hand maneuvered down, past her belly button, his fingers growing slick when they caressed her sex. The sensation was the last piece of the puzzle, and her picture of bliss was complete. Her fingers dug into his back as she rode out her release, and he continued to manipulate her just the right way so that it seemed like it would never end.

  But it did end. As she struggled to find words, their eyes met again. He paused, evaluating her. She raised one hand to trace her fingers over his bottom lip. “Make love to me, Dio.”

  Anger fringed his expression. “What?”

  Everything went into reverse, starting with Dee’s body. Scrambling off her, off the bed, and looking as though he’d back right out of the room, going straight through the wall if he could just turn around. Her bare breast, glistening from where his mouth was, felt cold exposed to the air. Already, Anwen’s body missed the weight of him on top of her. Confused, she rested on one elbow while he glared at her from across the room.

  “What did you just call me?”

  She searched her own memories. “Dio? I’m sorry if you don’t like it, I won’t use it again. I don’t even know where I got it.”