by Tina Donahue
“He’s a stalker, all right? He wants me even though I loathe him. Doesn’t matter. He’s determined to make me his.”
“The hell he will. Not with me here.”
“God, you men. You never fucking listen to reason.” She clawed his hands and punched his chest.
He didn’t budge.
She squeezed his balls.
White-hot pain raced from his groin to his chest and back, which shouldn’t have been possible since the fall from the Fontainebleau hadn’t fazed him, but there it was. He gagged. His strength drained, and his arms dropped away from her.
Wren skittered off him and faced Dimitri.
He gave her a slow, creepy smile.
*****
Wren fought revulsion. The only thing worse than Dimitri’s usually dour face was his godawful grin and dogged persistence.
This shit was getting old. He only wanted her because she wasn’t interested in the least. Rather than crawl back into the hole he’d come from, he took her rejection as a personal affront he intended to challenge then change.
Over Dimitri’s dead body.
She lifted her chin. “Your comprehension skills aren’t too good, are they?”
His smile faltered then blossomed anew. “Like your outfit.”
She’d never felt as naked but resisted wrapping her arms around herself.
Roman joined her, walking like Frankenstein’s monster, pain etched on his face. She regretted squeezing his nuts but still glared at him, hoping he’d get the hint and would flee.
He pulled off his T-shirt and offered it to her.
Before she could take it, the garment evaporated.
Dimitri grinned proudly.
The customers surrounding them leaned against their tables, taking in the show between her, Roman, and Dimitri. The bouncer kept his distance, his face white.
Dimitri’s reputation preceded him. He chuckled, the sound cruel. “Like I said, I like your outfit, or rather chains. I can think of several uses for them. How about you?”
Prick. She hoped Roman wouldn’t offer her his jeans. If he did, Dimitri would vaporize them, too. “Do you really want to do this here?” She gestured to the crowd watching them. “You honestly want them to know what I think of you?”
He rocked on his heels. “If you say one mean word, I’ll send the lot to the other side of the universe. They’ll have to find their own way back.”
All eyes shot to her, each pleading she keep her cool.
She rubbed her forehead. “For your information, this isn’t the twelfth century. Women get to make their own choices now. I don’t want to go out with you. You’re not—” The nasty words she’d had in mind died on her lips. If she said the wrong thing, she’d bring everyone in here to harm.
He lifted his eyebrows. “I’m not what?”
Roman edged closer to her. She stepped away, needing to protect him. “You and I aren’t compatible. We don’t have the same interests.”
“You mean I don’t strip? I can, you know. Hey, I will.” His collar opened on its own, followed by the next button. “Anything to please you.”
“No.” She put out her hand, not even trying to stop him with her magic. Hers was puny next to his, and she might enrage him to the point of no return. “That’s not what I meant. During my free time, I mentor teenaged girls to help them avoid trouble and lead good lives. You, on the other hand—” She had to stop once more before saying something she shouldn’t. “We’d bore each other.”
“Possibly. But we won’t know until we find out.” He pinned her with his gaze. “Come here.”
She refused to move. How dare he talk to her as he would to a servant or slave.
“Now, Wren. I mean it.”
“Fuck you.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “You will, and I’ll fuck you, too. We’ll screw for weeks until I’ve had my fill.” He wagged his finger. “I warn you, I’m not easy to keep up with.”
She wanted to hurl.
Roman pulled her behind him.
Now, she wanted to screech. “What are you doing?”
“Stay behind me.” He faced Dimitri. “You heard the lady. She’s not interested. Move on. Bother someone else.”
The air dropped several more degrees. In a few seconds, Wren figured she and Roman would be encased in ice. She slapped his back. “Please don’t do this. You’re making everything worse.”
“Shhh. I’m handling this.” He crossed his arms, his stance inflexible, and spoke to Dimitri. “You’re still here. That’s not wise.”
His putrid face grew uglier. “Do you have any idea what I can do to you?”
“Can you begin to fathom what I’ll do to you in return?”
“Oh, please.” Dimitri yawned. “Bore me to death?”
Jesus, men could be dicks at times. Wren stepped from behind Roman and growled at him. “Stop it. Now.”
“Sorry. I’m just getting started.” He bared his fangs.
Dimitri regarded them coolly. “Is this where I shiver and say I’m afraid?”
“We’ll leave your feelings for later.” Roman sped toward Dimitri so quickly, he blurred.
Caught off guard, Dimitri didn’t move.
Roman slammed into him, sending the warlock sailing. He smacked against the wall and fell to the floor.
A collective gasp rose from the crowd. Even the music stopped. Peaches, the next stripper to perform, stopped before reaching the stage. Everyone eyed the door. Escape.
Roman pumped his fist at what he’d accomplished.
Terrified at what would come, Wren gathered as much power as she could, prepared to use her force against Dimitri. She’d deal with Roman’s stupidity later. No one messed with a warlock, especially an uber-powerful one.
On his feet, Dimitri smoothed his clothes, flicked his wrist, and sent Roman soaring backward and upward. Roman twisted, similar to a cat, and landed on his hands and feet on the ceiling. He crawled across it and down the wall, like a human spider. “Is that all you can do?”
“Hold it.” Wren planted herself between them before the argument escalated. “I’m not dating either of you, got it? You two have convinced me to hang with women from now on.”
Dimitri arched one eyebrow. “I’ll change your mind on that. You’re coming with me.”
An invisible force gripped her wrist and tugged her toward him.
Damn. She dug her spike heels into the floor. The right one snapped off.
Roman zipped across the room and grabbed her other wrist, keeping her from moving another inch toward Dimitri.
Both men yanked, pulling her in opposite directions.
“Stop!” She tottered unevenly on her broken heels. “You’re going to pull me apart.” She spoke to Dimitri. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Not unless I have to because you don’t do what I say.”
She couldn’t believe this. “Who in the hell taught you how to sweet talk a woman? And you.” She faced Roman. “Do you want to hurt me, too?”
“No.” Anguish flooded his features. “But if I let go, he’ll take you away. I might not find you again.”
The female servers sighed longingly at his sweet declaration. The male patrons rolled their eyes.
Roman stroked her outstretched arm. “I’m sorry, but I can’t release you.”
“Seems we’re at an impasse.” Dimitri removed his hold on her.
Wren’s arm dropped. Having him back off felt good. Unfortunately, she didn’t trust him. “What are doing?”
He held up his bony hands. “Nothing. I’m being a good boy like the pussy standing next to you.”
Roman bunched his shoulders.
She grabbed his tightened fist. “Easy. Don’t let him rattle you.” She spoke to Dimitri. “Does this mean you’re at least willing to talk things out and try to see my viewpoint?”
“I’m not that good.” He pointed. “I need to teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.”
Roman pulled her behind him a
gain. “You’ll have to go through me first.”
“I fully intend to. Thanks for making this easier than I ever imagined or hoped.”
Wren’s stomach clenched. Whatever was coming couldn’t be good. She leaned past Roman’s arm.
Dimitri’s dark eyes turned silver, his power at full force. Energy blasted from him, creating shock waves, making the room ripple.
Wren struggled to stay on her feet.
Roman wrapped his arm around her to keep her upright.
Dimitri’s power reached them, caressed, then burrowed deep.
Searing heat and icy cold raced through her simultaneously, while the force tugged at her cellular structure, either tearing it apart or rearranging it into god knew what.
As quickly as the agony hit, it ended, leaving her panting.
She was afraid to look at what she’d become, and what he’d done to Roman. If his state was remotely bad, she’d find a way to annihilate Dimitri.
She bared her teeth at him. “What have you done?”
“Nothing.” He gestured. “See for yourself.”
Not one mole was misplaced. Even her chains were untouched. Roman looked the same, too. One thousand-percent male, his hair deliciously tousled. Wary, she spoke to Dimitri. “I don’t understand.”
“I know. But you will. I didn’t change anything about you or Jerk Face on the outside. However, on the inside…”
Roman blanched and cupped his balls. He blew out a sigh.
Wren figured his equipment was still intact, the same as her boobs and pussy. She frowned. “What are you saying? Quit talking in riddles.”
“Anything for you.” Dimitri puckered his lips and made kissy noises. “I arrived during your performance, long before you or the geek saw me.”
Wren grabbed Roman’s arm to keep him from rushing Dimitri for the insult. “Yeah, so?” She shrugged. “I stripped and then we kissed. Big deal. We’re adults. We have the right.”
“Unfortunately.” He scratched his throat. “I was talking about your conversation. I heard how he hates being a vampire and wants to die.”
She protected Roman with herself, her arms flung out. “Don’t you dare try to hurt him.”
Dimitri kept his hands clasped in front. His irises had returned to black. “I haven’t lifted a finger. If you keep interrupting me, you’ll have to find out for yourself what I’ve done.” He smiled sweetly. “I promise it won’t be nice.”
Roman pulled her into him, his hand over her mouth.
She bit his finger.
He didn’t budge.
Demetri grew solemn. Some might have said mean. “I also heard you telling him being a witch sucked. Getting everything you want without effort. Not having to struggle. It seems you two are into serious pain. Have you ever considered indulging in BDSM?”
Roman tensed.
She kicked him.
Dimitri paced the way a professor would when conducting a class. “Given your aversions to what you naturally are, there’s only one way to teach you how ungrateful you’re being, not only to those who’ve made you that way, but you to me, Wren. I only wanted to offer my heart, my devotion, my everlasting loyalty—”
She yanked Roman’s hand away. “Bull. You’re about as loyal as a career politician looking for his next bribe. Even the worst of them don’t lie as much as you do.”
He clucked his tongue. “There you go again, dissing me. In any event, since you don’t like being a witch and he doesn’t want to be a vampire, I switched you, or rather your paranormal talents. Now, you’ll see what hell really is. Ciao.”
His eyes flashed silver, followed by his form. Within milliseconds, shimmery specs took up the space where he’d been then drifted to the floor and evaporated.
Music boomed from the sound system. The DJ’s mike squealed. Peaches tramped to the stage.
Wren grabbed the Johnnie Walker Red and guzzled it.
“Hey, hold on.” Roman wrestled the booze from her. “Too much and you’ll be flat on your ass.”
“Exactly.” She ran her fingers across her mouth and stifled a belch. “Crawl on the ceiling and wall like you did before.”
“Why?”
So she could test to see if what Dimitri had claimed was true. With him, it was hard to tell. He lied when the truth fit better. “What you did was cool. You’re hotter than Spiderman.”
He put the whiskey on his table. “Shouldn’t we be discussing Dimitri?”
Not in this life or any other, as far as she was concerned. “Talking about him won’t make him go away for good. Believe me, I’ve tried. I’ve vented to my girlfriends about him.”
“Other witches?”
“Some. I have human friends, too.”
He rubbed his neck. “Not if they ever see Dimitri, you won’t. Let’s get out of here. Go to your place or mine. Whatever works.”
“Not yet.” She had to know the truth. “Please, crawl on the wall or ceiling. If you don’t want to do so, zip around the room in a blur. That’s awesome, too.”
He stepped away. “You’re worried he actually switched us. How could it be possible?”
“I don’t know. I’m not a warlock. Remind me how soon you started craving blood.”
His features tightened. “Why?”
Her stomach hurt, a weird pain she’d never experienced. “Never mind.” She grabbed the whiskey. “Catch.” She hurled the bottle past him.
The booze spilled out and arced as the bottle somersaulted through the air.
Roman sped after it as fast she would have, which wasn’t quick at all. And nothing like a vampire.
She dropped into a chair.
The bottle fell and crashed near Roman’s feet.
He looked over at her then raced to the wall. Despite his numerous efforts he couldn’t climb up it like a bug. He tried to pull a chair apart with his bare hands and failed, his superior strength kaput.
A raven shifter seated nearby shook his head. “Looks like you’re fucked, man.”
Roman hurried to her. “Cast a spell. Make magic.”
She covered her eyes.
“What?” He sank to his knees at her side. “Just a small incantation. Something good. Maybe conjuring up some double cheeseburgers and chocolate malts for us. Throw in pepper poppers for appetizers and I’ll be one happy man.”
“With extra garlic on everything?”
“And ruin the taste?”
Shit, shit, shit. For once, Dimitri hadn’t lied. The bastard. “I can’t.”
Roman gripped her knees. “Can’t what?”
“Conjure.” She grasped his shoulders. “I can’t recall one freaking spell, not one damn potion, or anything I have to do as a witch to make things happen.”
“Try.” He squeezed her knees. “It’s not that hard. There’s cat’s paw and maiden hair for ingredients. Not their real names, of course. In the past, witches had to hide the names of the herbs and plants they used to avoid being burned at the stake or drowned alive. However, mouse’s ear, bird’s foot, and serpent’s tongue are actual vegetation.”
“How do you know that?”
“I haven’t a clue. I just do.”
Since Dimitri switched their powers.
She shoved Roman back. He fell on his ass.
Before he could stop her, she dashed across the room, the patrons no more than smeared forms given her speed. Stopped at the wall, she crawled up it and across the ceiling.
Roman lifted his face to her.
Behind him, writing appeared on the wall, the letters blood red.
Wren,
The turd asked you to be his blood slave. I hope you understand now how impossible that is. You’ll need one, and he won’t be able to help you.
I didn’t change you two that much. Basically, he’s still a vamp with your scant power he doesn’t know how to use, and you’re a witch with his limitations, or should I say, craving.
You will require blood, and when you do, I’ll be here to offer myself to you for feeding
and everything else.
We’ll bond forever.
XOXO,
Dimitri
Roman’s mouth moved as he read the note, surprise not horror, on his face.
He didn’t lust for blood any longer. Score one for him.
As far as she was concerned…
Shit.
Chapter Three
Talk about feeling awesome. For the first time in weeks, Roman’s incessant craving for blood had ceased. Hot damn. There seemed nothing he couldn’t do: flap his wings and fly, walk through a wall, disappear on cue. He was the man.
Maybe due to the magic he now owned.
He ached to test his new talent but needed to help Wren down.
She’d dug her nails into the ceiling and was panting in what might have been fear.
Not wanting her to worry, he strode, rather than zipped to the area beneath her, since whizzing around like a supersonic jet wasn’t in the cards any longer. “Hey.” He held out his arms to catch her. “You can let go now.”
She avoided his gaze. After releasing her hold, she twisted better than an ice-skater doing a quadruple axle and landed yards from him on her broken spike heels. She tottered right and left to regain her balance, arms flailing.
He struggled to catch one but couldn’t, being too damn slow. Besides, she’d already righted herself and hugged her middle. He leaned in. “You okay?”
“Fine.” She lurched past him.
“Wait.” He spun around and tried to catch up. Impossible. She streaked around the room, leaving him in the dust. “Hey!”
She stopped, her back to him, head down, shoulders heaving.
He longed to touch her but figured he better not since he wasn’t sure if she was simply catching her breath or crying. “Sure you’re all right?”
“Never. Been. Better.” She flung out her arm. “Go.”
“Okay. Where?”
“How the hell should I know?” She flapped her hands then gripped her elbows. “Wherever you want. Your worries are over. No more blood lust. You can move on and count cards, drive your cycle within the speed limit, eat pepper poppers until you burst, whatever the fuck you want. You’re cured.”
Didn’t feel like it to him. “Hold on.” He used his gentlest tone and touch, resting his hands on her shoulders.