The Entity Within e-2

by Cat Devon

Even her finger jab made him tingle, and that angered the hell out of him. Who did she think she was, telling him he was unfit? “Why? Because I’m a vampire?”

  “Because you’re arrogant and rude and mean.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “Those are not good traits,” she told him.

  “They are in a vampire.”

  “Nick doesn’t seem to be like that,” she said.

  “He’s already taken, so don’t think you can seduce him into your bed.”

  Shaking her head, Zoe took several big steps even farther away from him. “That comment was completely inappropriate.”

  She sounded so prim and proper that Damon was totally turned on. The Hunter in him responded to her retreat, making him want to give chase. The vampire in him responded to everything about her.

  She wasn’t the first witch he’d ever come in contact with, so he couldn’t blame his reaction on that. No, there was something about her specifically that he was finding incredibly sexy.

  “Are you trying to cast a spell right now?” he demanded suspiciously.

  “No. I already told you I’ve given up the practice of witchcraft.”

  “Witches lie,” he said.

  “Perhaps some do. I don’t.” Her gaze turned thoughtful. “What made you think I was trying to cast a spell?”

  “Nothing.” He wasn’t about to admit that she got to him.

  But she seemed to know anyway. “Right.”

  “Don’t look so smug, witch.”

  “Don’t look so angry, vamp,” she instantly shot back.

  Now Damon’s eyes were the ones that widened. No one ever spoke to him that way. He was feared on five continents. He’d escaped one of the levels of hell and had done more killing than he could keep track of.

  Yet here she was, standing before him, refusing to back down. But she had shown fear when he’d talked about investigating her background. And she’d shown anger when he’d mentioned her mother. Those were both weaknesses that he was determined to check out. Because he wasn’t about to lose in a power struggle with a witch, no matter how sexy she was.

  * * *

  “So did you and Damon work things out?” Gram asked Zoe once they’d returned to their rental house.

  “You mean Damon the Demon?” Zoe said.

  “Don’t say that.” Gram looked around nervously. “Demons are not to be messed with.”

  “They’re not real,” Zoe said.

  “No? Vampires and witches are real. So are demons.”

  “Have you ever met any? I don’t mean warlocks who are demon-mean. I mean a real demon.”

  “I’ve heard about them and that was enough,” Gram said with a shiver. “How did we get on this horrible topic anyway?”

  “You asked me about Damon.”

  “He seems nice, right?”

  “Nice?” Zoe stared at her grandmother in disbelief.

  Gram grinned and elbowed her like an adolescent girl at a sleepover. “I think he likes you.”

  “I think he wants to stuff me in a boiling cauldron or toss water on me like the witch in The Wizard of Oz and watch me wither away.”

  “He certainly was watching you, that’s for sure,” Gram said.

  “He dislikes me and all witches, that’s what’s sure.”

  “Why would he dislike witches?”

  Zoe shrugged. “He wouldn’t say.”

  “I don’t understand. We told him we wouldn’t cause any trouble.”

  “I know. And speaking of that, he had us investigated.”

  Gram’s face paled.

  “It’s okay.” Zoe gave her a reassuring hug. “Our coven back in Boston is bound by our laws not to reveal our secrets.”

  “Right. If Damon knew the details, he’d have tossed us out immediately.”

  “But he is suspicious, so we have to be very careful,” Zoe said.

  “Certainly.”

  “And that means not drawing attention to ourselves.”

  “Unless it’s your Bella Luna products we are drawing attention to, right?” Gram said.

  Zoe was proud of the online natural botanical beauty line she’d started. Her business was still in its up-and-coming stage, but a popular artisan soap blogger had said the Bella Luna soaps were among her favorites, which had resulted in a nice boost in sales.

  “I do wish you’d let me amp up your products a little,” Gram said. “I could make the anti-wrinkle cream a real winner.”

  “No magic.”

  “Too late,” Gram admitted.

  “What did you do?”

  “I used an unpacking spell to get your work area all set up with your creams and things. The upstairs apartment is perfect for your business. It has its own kitchen for you to work out new mixtures and soap combos.”

  “The soaps are the most popular items in our product line. I can hardly keep up with the demand,” Zoe said.

  “If you’d let me help you by tweaking a few of your items then you could afford to hire someone to help you. I hope you’re not angry that I cast a spell to unpack things for you.”

  Zoe headed upstairs to check things out. Her grandmother’s spells had been known to go astray in the past. Her mother’s final spell had ended her life. Zoe no longer trusted magic to always do good.

  Zoe couldn’t afford to think of her mother at the moment. She had to stay focused. Looking around the large room that was the new home of her business, she gave a sigh of relief. Nothing was broken. Rows of muslin-wrapped soaps were neatly stacked on shelves. They were in alphabetical order from apple spice to wintergreen, a remnant from her days as a librarian back in Boston. She’d had to leave her job when the books had all started speaking to her at once. The cacophony had been deafening.

  Zoe still wasn’t sure what had caused that phenomenon. Sure, growing up she’d always had a close affinity with books, and sometimes she’d inadvertently make the characters of her favorite stories hop off the page and dance around her room—like the time at age five when she’d done the bunny hop with the Cat in the Hat from the book of the same name. But she’d never had her books screaming at her simultaneously, creating a deafening sound that made it impossible to think straight. The library had thousands and thousands of books, all of them screaming various quotes from within their pages or yelling her name. It was worse than the decibel level in the front row of a rock concert combined with the blast of shrieks from a haunted house on speed.

  Gram swore she’d had no part in the occurrences at the library that had forced Zoe to leave. The incidents had continued even after Zoe gave notice, right up until she left the building. Thankfully no one else had been aware of the shouting books. Just her. She’d hated giving up a job she’d loved, but she’d had little choice. Zoe hadn’t been to a library since then.

  While her professional life was up for grabs, Zoe’s personal life had been terrific. She’d fallen in love with Tristin Winters, a professor of paranormal activity at the local community college. She’d met him while still in library school. After two years as a couple, he’d proposed to her and she trusted him enough to tell him she was a witch. He’d been supportive and understanding. Given his chosen field of study, he’d known a great deal about witches and harbored no prejudice against them.

  His requests for her to cast spells to help him economically had started innocently enough. Or so she’d thought at the time. His department had needed more funding, so she’d worked her magic on the lottery to allow him to win. It wasn’t mega-millions, but it was a nice amount.

  He said he’d donated it all to the college but that more was needed. He went on and on about the difference his work could make in the world of paranormal research and how he’d studied in Nepal and wanted to help the people there. She hadn’t been a total patsy. She’d checked out his story; Tristin had indeed studied local legends and lore in Nepal. He’d shown her photos of himself with the locals. The faces of the children had been the breaking point for her.

  So she’d applied
her magic to Wall Street for him. Just a few stocks. Nothing meant to gain attention.

  When her mother died and Zoe refused to use magic any longer, Tristin left her. He’d used her and broken her heart. Zoe’s grief at the loss of her mother and the betrayal of her fiancé had nearly undone her. She’d wanted to give up.

  Instead she turned to what had been a hobby before—making soap. At a time when her life had seemed out of control, she had been able to focus on creating her own recipes and mixtures for a line of botanical bath and beauty products that were pure and natural … and devoid of magic.

  “Does everything look okay?” Gram asked her. “I don’t want your business to suffer because of my mistakes.”

  “Having an Internet-based business means that I can pick up and move easier than if I had a bricks-and-mortar store,” Zoe replied.

  “Speaking of stores, did you notice the cupcake shop down the block from Nick’s bar?”

  “Yes. We will definitely have to check that out later.”

  “And did you also notice Damon’s eyes?” Gram asked her.

  “He sure noticed mine,” Zoe said. “He asked me if it was a witch thing.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “That it isn’t.”

  “Did you mention the curse?”

  “That an Adams witch with two eye colors would never find happiness with a man? No, I didn’t tell him.” Zoe had also never told her ex-fiancé. “I should have put in the tinted contact lens I have to make my eyes match like I did when I worked at the library.”

  “Would you have gone with the blue or the green?”

  “Green. I think they are more powerful.”

  “Damon’s eyes are certainly powerful,” Gram said. “Do you deny that?”

  “No. He has very powerful expressive angry dark blue eyes. And yes, they are sexy. But dangerously sexy. This is a vampire we are talking about here. I am not about to play Little Red Riding Hood to his Big Bad Wolf.”

  Gram laughed and patted her arm fondly. “You always did have a thing for fairy tales.”

  “That’s a make-believe world. We are dealing with real vampires here,” Zoe said.

  “And we are real witches.”

  “Why didn’t you give me a heads-up before we moved here?” Zoe asked.

  “We didn’t have a lot of options open to us,” Gram said. “We were pretty much banished from Boston. Our coven said we had to leave town because I’d created a scene unbecoming of a witch and you were still on probation for revealing the fact that you’re a witch to Tristin. They didn’t give us much time to make the move.”

  “I know, but you still could have warned me that we were moving into the middle of a bunch of vampires.”

  “I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”

  “Damon is not happy about us living here.”

  Gram grinned. “That’s an understatement.” She reached out to stroke the long-haired calico cat perched on a worktable. “Isn’t that right, Morticia?”

  The cat purred her agreement as she tilted her head so Gram could reach that spot behind her ear she loved.

  A gray short-haired cat jumped up on the other side of the worktable. “Don’t expect me to be so subservient,” the cat said.

  “I still can’t get used to the fact that your familiar speaks,” Gram said with a shake of her head. “Bella Plushallova is one of a kind.”

  “I can’t get used to the fact that I was brought back as a cat, and yes I am one of a kind,” Bella said. “I was once a Russian countess and now look at me. I have been reduced to this.”

  “You are the familiar to Zoe, a wonderful witch. Be thankful.”

  Bella regally lifted her nose in the air. “I did not ask for this assignment.”

  “Well, we didn’t ask for a familiar with attitude, either,” Gram said. “Our coven decided you had to be placed with Zoe after none of the other witches could cope with your shenanigans.”

  The sound of pounding on the front door prevented further feline-familiar-to-witch conversation.

  “It’s probably Damon ready to toss us out,” Zoe said.

  “Don’t be such a Debbie Downer,” Gram reprimanded her. “You go open the front door. I’ll let you deal with our company. I’m going to finish unpacking.”

  “What if it’s Damon?” Zoe said.

  “Don’t upset the vampire,” Gram suggested with a pat to Zoe’s cheek before disappearing.

  “Definitely do not upset the vampire,” Bella agreed before leaping down and marching off, leaving Zoe alone.

  Chapter Three

  Zoe went downstairs and opened the front door to find a young woman standing there with a box in hand. “Welcome to the neighborhood,” she said cheerfully. “My name is Daniella Delaney.” She opened the box’s lid. “And I brought cupcakes.”

  “I can see that.” Zoe looked around, half expecting to find Damon lurking somewhere nearby.

  Satisfied that he was not waiting to pounce, Zoe returned her focus to Daniella.

  “I’m the owner of Heavenly Cupcakes,” Daniella said.

  Zoe studied her. “You’re part druid.”

  Daniella was clearly taken aback by Zoe’s abrupt comment. “How did you know? Did Nick tell you?”

  “No. Your aura told me. It’s an unusually strong gold with tinges of bright royal blue, which is very rare and would indicate your druid heritage.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “Not to me,” Zoe said.

  “And you are a…” Daniella paused, clearly unsure how to complete the sentence.

  “Soap maker.”

  “Right. Nick said you’re also a…”

  “A witch?” Zoe nodded. “That’s right.”

  “Nick told me that you seemed surprised to learn about the vampires.”

  “True.” Zoe suddenly realized two things simultaneously—that she was being a poor hostess and that the smell of those cupcakes was making her mouth water. “Oh my gosh. I didn’t mean to keep you standing out here on the porch all this time. Come on in.”

  Turning around, Zoe realized that in the time it took for her to come downstairs and answer the door, Gram had completely unpacked the contents of the living room.

  Daniella expressed her surprise. “You did a lot of work in a short amount of time.”

  “It’s an Adams family trait,” Zoe muttered, praying Gram wouldn’t pull any more magic tricks while Daniella was here. While it was true that the cupcake maker knew Zoe was a witch, she didn’t want Gram getting accustomed to always casting spells to meet their needs.

  “The Adams family like the vintage TV show?”

  “Not really. Don’t expect to see the shark mounted on the wall with a guy’s leg in it like on the TV show.”

  “I actually have a soft spot for fish mounted on the wall,” Daniella said wistfully.

  “You do?”

  Daniella nodded. “You could say that a singing fish saved my life, but that’s a long story.” She nodded down at the cupcakes. “I brought red velvet. And with St. Patrick’s Day coming up, I included mini mint along with a few Irish cream.”

  Zoe eyed the sweets before noticing the teapot on the coffee table. Gram’s work again. Zoe really did need to speak to her grandmother about keeping the magic under the radar for now. Zoe took Daniella’s lightweight coat and zebra-print silky scarf and hung them on the coatrack by the door.

  “Please have a seat,” Zoe said. “Would you like some tea?”

  Nodding, Daniella sat on the couch and took the cup of tea that Zoe poured and then offered her. “I heard Damon gave you a hard time at the meeting today. Don’t take it personally.”

  “It’s hard not to,” Zoe said, taking a seat on the couch beside her.

  “I know.”

  “Did Damon give you a hard time when you first arrived?” Zoe asked.

  “Actually I was born here. My family owns the local funeral home.”

  The news surprised Zoe. “So you grew up surrounded by
vampires?”

  “No. Well, yes, I guess I did. But I had no idea. I was totally in the dark. I left to go to college, and after my training as a chef I worked in New York City. I only met Nick when I opened my cupcake shop back in early October. And I only learned about the vampires shortly after that.”

  “Is that when you met Damon, too?” Zoe asked.

  “No. Damon’s only been here since mid-January.”

  “Yet he acts like he owns the place,” Zoe muttered. “Sorry.”

  “No need to apologize to me.”

  “Nick seemed nice but not Damon. Damon already warned me that Nick is taken.”

  “That’s correct,” Daniella said proudly. “Nick is taken by me.”

  “Wow, I didn’t think vampires and druids got along.”

  “I’m only part druid,” Daniella reminded her.

  “Right. You’re a hybrid,” Zoe said.

  “Not that I go around bragging about that,” Daniella said.

  “Believe me, I totally understand. I don’t go around bragging that I’m a witch, either,” Zoe said.

  “I do brag about my cupcakes, though.” She picked up the box and held it out to Zoe. “Here, have one.”

  Zoe selected the red velvet. Taking a bite, she closed her eyes as the perfect blend of moist cake and cream cheese frosting hit her mouth. “Mmm, magical,” she said before taking another bite.

  Daniella beamed. “I’m so glad you like it.”

  “I don’t like it. I love it. And could easily get addicted.” Zoe eyed the remaining cupcakes and then studied Daniella. Had the cupcake maker used some secret kind of druid magic on her cupcakes to make them so delicious?

  As if reading her mind, Daniella said, “It’s not magic. I don’t have any kind of magical abilities. Well, sometimes I get premonitions about the future, but that’s it. Oh, and I can protect myself from evil vampires if necessary.”

  “How do you do that?” Zoe asked.

  “It’s a druid thing,” Daniella said.

  “So only druids can do it?”

  “That’s right. Only hybrid druids.”

  “Too bad,” Zoe muttered. “There’s a certain evil vampire I could use some protection from.”

  “Damon isn’t really evil,” Daniella said. “He just takes his job as head of security very seriously. We had an incident around Halloween that set everyone on edge.”